Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn, Shoot forth with lively power at Spring's return; And be not slow a stately growth to rear Of pillars, branching off from year to year, Till they have learned to frame a darksome aisle;-- 5 That may recal to mind that awful Pile[1] Where Reynolds, 'mid our country's noblest dead, In the last sanctity of fame is laid. --There, though by right the excelling Painter sleep Where Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep, 10 Yet not the less his Spirit would hold dear Self-hidden praise, and Friendship's private tear: Hence, on my patrimonial grounds, have I Raised this frail tribute to his memory; From youth a zealous follower of the Art[2] 15 That he professed; attached to him in heart; Admiring, loving, and with grief and pride Feeling what England lost when Reynolds died. These Lime-trees now form "a stately growth of pillars," "a darksome aisle"; and the urn remains, as set up in 1807, at the end of the avenue. The "awful Pile," where Reynolds lies, and where-- ... Death and Glory a joint sabbath keep, is, of course, Westminster Abbey. After Wordsworth's return from Coleorton and Stockton to Grasmere, he wrote thus to Sir George Beaumont:-- "MY DEAR SIR GEORGE, "Had there been room at the end of the small avenue of lime-trees for planting a spacious circle of the same trees, the Urn might have been placed in the centre, with the inscription thus altered, "Ye lime-trees ranged around this hallowed urn, Shoot forth with lively power at spring's return! And be not slow a stately growth to rear, Bending your docile boughs from year to year, Till in a solemn concave they unite; Like that Cathedral Dome beneath whose height Reynolds, among our country's noble Dead, In the last sanctity of fame is laid. Here may some Painter sit in future days. Some future poet meditate his lays! Not mindless of that distant age, renowned, When inspiration hovered o'er this ground, The haunt of him who sang, how spear and shield In civil conflict met on Bosworth field, And of that famous youth (full soon removed From earth!) by mighty Shakespeare's self approved, Fletcher's associate, Jonson's friend beloved. "The first couplet of the above, as it before stood, would have appeared ludicrous, if the stone had remained after the trees might have been gone. The couplet relating to the household virtues did not accord with the painter and the poet; the former being allegorical figures; the latter, living men."