Classic Poem

When last I stood on Latrigg's brow,
'Twas thirty years agone,
But clear can I remember how
The lake and valley shone.

Then one was standing at my side,
" Has Heaven, " she said, " more grace?
Can God indeed of bounty hide
A lovelier resting place? "

Tears have been mine, and want, and pain,
And death has come between,
But like sweet sun thro' April rain
I still behold that scene.

Far Borrowdale is all as blue,
Helvellyn lies as brown,
As silver coils the Greta thro'
The meadows by the town.

Yon pale white flood at Skiddaw's feet
So gleamed — about his knees
Rose valley incense just as sweet
From fields as glad as these.

Their rubies out the larches hang,
As rich their tresses glow;
You heard that bird? no merrier sang
The thirty years ago.

How sad and soft the river calls!
How hums the town beneath!
And never yet on Walla's walls
Did spring more gently breathe.

Still with its island home of prayer
Close bosomed, lies the lake,
Ageless with youth no years will wear,
In calm no storm can break.

Yet as I gaze, one little spot
In this vast changelessness
Seems lovelier, one remembered plot
Is changed, but changed to bless.

The old church tower on yonder mound
Shines white, as then it shone;
There one I love is sleeping sound,
And I am here alone.

Dear voice, send answer up the steep,
" Has Heaven indeed more grace,
Does God of His compassion keep
A lovelier resting place? "