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SONNETS, BY EDWARD MOXON, ESQ. 



WORDSWORTH, of all men who have graced our age. 

 Whether the muse they served, or in the state 

 Stood at the helm, or in cathedral sate, 



Or judge's chair, or yet adorned the page 

 Heroic deem'd, surpassing those of yore 

 Who shone at Poictiers, Cressy, Agincour ! 



None have like thee from unknown sources brought 



The light of truth, the feeling, and the thought 

 Dwelling in humblest things ; the human heart 



Thou hast ennobled ; and enlarged the spheres 

 Of our perceptions, giving them a part 



In all that breathes ; nor stone, nor flower appears, 

 Whether in fields or hills retired and holy, 

 For thy all comprehensive mind too lowly. 



WRITTEN IN THE PERB LA CHAISE, ON THE SPOT WHERE MARSHAL NK 



IS BURIED. 



WHAT ! neither flower nor cypress on thy grave. 



While all around a hallowed garden blooms ; 



And piety low bends among the tombs, 

 Watering with tears the earth she could not save ? 

 But not so sleeps the " bravest of the brave ;" 



The Hero of a hundred battles ; gory 

 Though be the shroud he lies in, yet nor wave, 



Nor storm, nor time, can e'er efface the story 

 Of his high deeds. Be satisfied, great shade ! 



No epitaph thou need'st, or marble heap : 

 Thee Chivalry her gallant son hath made ; 



And History of thee much store will reap. 

 What need of monument, or tomb array'd, 



When ev'n the stranger comes, o'er thee to weep ? 



