XLIX

The grave, the city, and the wilderness;

      And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise,

      And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress

      The bones of Desolation's nakedness

      Pass, till the spirit of the spot shall lead

      Thy footsteps to a slope of green access

      Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead

A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread;