ROBERT POCOCK. 255 



strain, and closed the old man's career, with all his 

 cares and disappointments. For on the morning of 

 the 26th of October, 1830, there they find him as he 

 lay in his bed, stricken, so the doctors said, by heart 

 disease. 



His body was quietly laid in the neighbouring 

 churchyard of Wilmington. Little notice was taken 

 of his death, and no record, either of wood or stone, ever 

 marked the place where they laid him. 



And here also we will leave him, peacefully laying 

 down his freight three score years and ten of final 

 disappointments, struggles, and cares in the little pic- 

 turesque churchyard of his old friend and fellow- 

 antiquary, the Rev. Samuel Denne, in the midst of that 

 rural scenery which (student of nature as he was) he 

 traversed so oft, and which he loved so well. 



Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! 



Enough for me the churchyard's lonely mound, 

 Where melancholy with still silence reigns, 



And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground. 



MICHAEL BEUCE. 



FINIS. 



