Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXVI. Melancholy
In a Churchyard
By Charlotte Smith (1749–1806)
O THOU, who sleep’st where hazel bands entwine
The vernal grass, with paler violets drest!
I would, sweet maid, thy humble bed were mine,
And mine thy calm and enviable rest.
For never more, by human ills opprest,        5
Shall thy soft spirit fruitlessly repine:
Thou canst not now thy fondest hopes resign
Even in the hour that should have made thee blest.
Light lies the turf upon thy virgin breast;
And lingering here, to love and sorrow true,        10
The youth who once thy simple heart possest
Shall mingle tears with April’s early dew;
While still for him shall faithful memory save
Thy form and virtues from the silent grave.

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