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Andrew Lang - Ballades V - Of His Choice Of A Sepulchre
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HERE I ’d come when weariest!  
      Here the breast  
Of the Windberg’s tufted over  
Deep with bracken; here his crest  
      Takes the west, 
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.  
  
Silent here are lark and plover;  
      In the cover  
Deep below, the cushat best  
Loves his mate, and croons above  
      O’er their nest,  
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover.  
  
Bring me here, Life’s tired-out guest,  
      To the blest  
Bed that waits the weary rover,— 
Here should failure be confest;  
      Ends my quest,  
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!  
  
ENVOY

Friend, or stranger kind, or lover,  
Ah, fulfil a last behest, 
      Let me rest  
Where the wide-winged hawk doth hover!
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