HERE I ’d come when weariest! <br /> Here the breast <br />Of the Windberg’s tufted over <br />Deep with bracken; here his crest <br /> Takes the west, <br />Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover. <br /> <br />Silent here are lark and plover; <br /> In the cover <br />Deep below, the cushat best <br />Loves his mate, and croons above <br /> O’er their nest, <br />Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover. <br /> <br />Bring me here, Life’s tired-out guest, <br /> To the blest <br />Bed that waits the weary rover,— <br />Here should failure be confest; <br /> Ends my quest, <br />Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover! <br /> <br />ENVOY <br /> <br />Friend, or stranger kind, or lover, <br />Ah, fulfil a last behest, <br /> Let me rest <br />Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!<br /><br />Andrew Lang<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ballades-v-of-his-choice-of-a-sepulchre/
