Hither, the gray and shapely church beside,
At sandy Hingham, by the sounding sea,
From the disturbing town escaped thus wide,
I’ m come, from all encumbering care set free,
To raise the choral song, with friends discourse,
Roam the wide fields for flowers, or seaward sail,
Or to Cohasset’ s strand repair, where hoarse
Tumultuous surges chant their ceaseless tale;
Or poesy entertain, grave Wordsworth’ s lays,
Melodious musing childhood’ s glorious prime,
Shakespeare’ s warm sonnets or Venetian plays,
Or that sad wizard Mariner’ s marvellous Rime.
Here in these haunts, this lovers’ company,
Sweet Love’ s symposium hold we happily.