XLV + 

Who hath not loiter’d in a green churchyard, + 

And let his spirit, like a demon-mole, + 

Work through the clayey soil and gravel hard, + 

To see skull, coffin’d bones, and funeral stole; + 

Pitying each form that hungry Death hath marr’d, + 

And filling it once more with human soul? + 

Ah! this is holiday to what was felt + 

When Isabella by Lorenzo knelt. + 