Poetry Archives

Thy soul within such silent pomp did keep,
  As if humanity were lull’d asleep;
So gentle was thy pilgrimage beneath,
  Time’s unheard feet scarce make less noise,
  Or the soft journey which a planet goes:
Life seem’d all calm as its last breath.
  A still tranquillity so hush’d thy breast,
    As if some Halcyon were its guest,
    And there had built her nest;
  It hardly now enjoys a greater rest.