Megalithic Poems

close
more_vert

O Thou, to whom in the olden time was raised
Yon ample Mound, not fashion'd to display
An artful structure, but with better skill
Piled massive, to endure through many an age,
How simple, how majestic is thy tomb!
When temples and when palaces shall fall,

And mighty cities moulder into dust,
When to their deep foundations Time shall shake
The strong-based pyramids, shall thine remain
Amid the general ruin unsubdued,
Uninjured as the everlasting hills,
And mock the feeble power of storms and Time.


http://64.233.183.104/search?q=cache:GKJc2Xpm6_IJ:dev.hil.unb.ca/Texts/EPD/UNB/view-works.cgi%3Fc%3Dcrowewil.1336%26pos%3D1+%22william+CROWE%22+%22silbury%22&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&ie=UTF-8
Page 125

I do so love 18th and 19th C vicars; one working day a week, a light ramble over the hills and then some 'noble' poetry.. luckily Crowe seems to have spent so much time at the theatre, and penning poems to his lady loves that he quite forgot to go excavating as well - a very unvicarish vicar... ;)


The Tor of Glastonbury! Even but now
I saw the hoary pile cresting the top
Of that north-western hill; and in this Now
A cloud hath pass'd on it, and its dim bulk
Becomes annihilate, or if not, a spot
Which the strain'd vision tires itself to find.

Thanks Nigel.

Seems there are two Rev William Crowe - this one of (1745-1829) and another of (1691–1743). Wonder if they were related.