That to the sapling ash gives birth;
For dormitory's length laid bare
Where the wild rose blossoms fair;[N]
Or altar, whence the cross was rent,
Now rich with mossy ornament?[11] 125
--She sees a warrior carved in stone,
Among the thick weeds, stretched alone;[O]
A warrior, with his shield of pride
Cleaving humbly to his side,
And hands in resignation prest, 130
Palm to palm, on his tranquil breast;
As little she regards the sight[12]
As a common creature might:
If she be doomed to inward care,
Or service, it must lie elsewhere. 135
--But hers are eyes serenely bright,
And on she moves--with pace how light!
Nor spares to stoop her head, and taste
The dewy turf with flowers bestrown;
And thus she fares, until at last[13] 140
Beside the ridge of a grassy grave
In quietness she lays her down;
Gentle[14] as a weary wave
Sinks, when the summer breeze hath died,
Against an anchored vessel's side; 145
Even so, without distress, doth she
Lie down in peace, and lovingly.

The day is placid in its going,
To a lingering motion bound,
Like the crystal stream now flowing 150
With its softest summer sound:[15]
So the balmy minutes pass,
While this radiant Creature lies
Couched upon the dewy grass,
Pensively with downcast eyes. 155
--But now again the people raise
With awful cheer a voice of praise;[16]
It is the last, the parting song;
And from the temple forth they throng,
And quickly spread themselves abroad, 160
While each pursues his several road.
But some--a variegated band
Of middle-aged, and old, and young,
And little children by the hand
Upon their leading mothers hung-- 165
With mute obeisance gladly paid
Turn towards the spot, where, full in view,
The white Doe, to her service true,[17]
Her sabbath couch has made.

It was a solitary mound; 170
Which two spears' length of level ground
Did from all other graves divide:
As if in some respect of pride;
Or melancholy's sickly mood,
Still shy of human neighbourhood; 17