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"METHOUGHT I SAW THE FOOTSTEPS OF A THRONE"

I

          METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne
          Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
          Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
          But all the steps and ground about were strown
          With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
          Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
          Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
          "Thou art our king, O Death! to thee we groan."
          Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
          Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one                    10
          Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
          With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
          Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
          A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
                                                              1806.


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