Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.

Wilford

Lines Written in Wilford Churchyard on Recovery from Sickness

By Henry Kirke White (1785–1806)

HERE would I wish to sleep. This is the spot

Which I have long marked out to lay my bones in;

Tired out and wearied with the riotous world,

Beneath this yew I would be sepulchred.

It is a lovely spot! the sultry sun,

From his meridian height, endeavors vainly

To pierce the shadowy foliage, while the zephyr

Comes wafting gently o’er the rippling Trent,

And plays about my wan cheek. ’T is a nook

Most pleasant. Such a one perchance did Gray

Frequent, as with the vagrant muse he wantoned.

Come, I will sit me down and meditate,

For I am wearied with my summer’s walk,

And here I may repose in silent ease;

And thus, perchance, when life’s sad journey ’s o’er,

My harassed soul in this same spot may find

The haven of its rest,—beneath this sod

Perchance may sleep it sweetly, sound as death.

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