them might cost me more trouble than
writing a hundred fresh ones."--ED.

VARIANTS:

[1] 1815.

That it was fashioned in ... MS.

[2] 1815.

But by prompt hands of Pleasure and of Love,
Female and Male; that emulously strove MS.

[3] 1827.

To shape the work, what time these walks and bowers
Were framed to cheer dark winter's lonely hours. 1815.

... bleak ... MS.

WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT, BART., AND IN HIS NAME,
FOR AN URN, PLACED BY HIM AT THE TERMINATION OF A NEWLY-PLANTED
AVENUE, IN THE SAME GROUNDS

Composed 1808.--Published 1815

One of the "Inscriptions."--ED.

Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn,
Shoot forth with lively power at Spring's return;
And be not slow a stately growth to rear
Of pillars, branching off from year to year,
Till they have learned to frame a darksome aisle;-- 5
That may recal to mind that awful Pile[1]
Where Reynolds, 'mid our country's noblest dead,
In the last sanctity of fame is laid.
--There, though by right the excelling Painter sleep
Where Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep, 10
Yet not the less his Spirit would hold dear
Self-hidden praise, and Friendship's private tear:
Hence, on my patrimonial grounds, have I
Raised this frail tribute to his memory;
From youth a zealous follower of the Art[2] 15
That he professed; attached to him in heart;
Admiring, loving, and with grief and pride
Feeling what England lost when Reynolds died.

These Lime-trees now form "a stately growth of pillars," "a darksome
aisle"; and the urn remains, as set up in 1807, at the end of the
avenue.

The "awful Pile," where Reynolds lies, and where--

... Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep,

is, of course, Westminster Abbey.

After Wordsworth's return from Coleorton and Stockton to Grasmere, he
wrote thus to Sir George Beaumont:--

"MY DEAR SIR GEORGE,

"Had there been room at the end of the small avenue of lime-trees
for planting a spacious circle of the same trees, the Urn might
have been placed in the centre, with the inscription thus altered,

"Ye lime-trees ranged around this hallowed urn,
Shoot forth with lively power at spring's return!
And be not slow a stately gro