Here you will find the Poem At The Grave Of Charles Lamb, In Edmonton of poet William Watson
Not here, O teeming City, was it meet Thy lover, thy most faithful, should repose, But where the multitudinous life-tide flows Whose ocean-murmur was to him more sweet Than melody of birds at morn, or bleat Of flocks in Spring-time, _there_ should Earth enclose His earth, amid thy thronging joys and woes, There, 'neath the music of thy million feet. In love of thee this lover knew no peer. Thine eastern or thy western fane had made Fit habitation for his noble shade. Mother of mightier, nurse of none more dear, Not here, in rustic exile, O not here, Thy Elia like an alien should be laid!
