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<h3> A PLACE OF BURIAL IN THE SOUTH OF SCOTLAND</h3>
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<span class="i0">Part fenced by man, part by a rugged steep<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That curbs a foaming brook, a Grave-yard lies;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The hare's best couching-place for fearless sleep;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Which moonlit elves, far seen by credulous eyes,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Enter in dance. Of church, or sabbath ties,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">No vestige now remains; yet thither creep<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Bereft Ones, and in lowly anguish weep<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Their prayers out to the wind and naked skies.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Proud tomb is none; but rudely-sculptured knights,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">By humble choice of plain old times, are seen<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Level with earth, among the hillocks green:<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Union not sad, when sunny daybreak smites<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The spangled turf, and neighbouring thickets ring<br/></span>
<span class="i0">With <i>jubilate</i> from the choirs of spring!<br/></span></div>
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