Claribel: A Melody

Where Claribel low-lieth
    The breezes pause and die,
      Letting the rose-leaves fall:
  But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,
      Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
    With an ancient melody
    Of an inward agony,
  Where Claribel low-lieth.

    At eve the beetle boometh
    Athwart the thicket lone:
  At noon the wild bee hummeth
    About the moss'd headstone:
  At midnight the moon cometh,
    And looketh down alone.
  Her song the lintwhite swelleth,
  The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,
    The callow throstle lispeth,
  The slumbrous wave outwelleth,
    The babbling runnel crispeth,
  The hollow grot replieth
    Where Claribel low-lieth.