Not here, O teeming City, was it meet <br />Thy lover, thy most faithful, should repose, <br />But where the multitudinous life-tide flows <br />Whose ocean-murmur was to him more sweet <br />Than melody of birds at morn, or bleat <br />Of flocks in Spring-time, _there_ should Earth enclose <br />His earth, amid thy thronging joys and woes, <br />There, 'neath the music of thy million feet. <br />In love of thee this lover knew no peer. <br />Thine eastern or thy western fane had made <br />Fit habitation for his noble shade. <br />Mother of mightier, nurse of none more dear, <br />Not here, in rustic exile, O not here, <br />Thy Elia like an alien should be laid!<br /><br />William Watson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-grave-of-charles-lamb-in-edmonton/
