Distant from the noisy town

Distant from the noisy town
Sits my first and next alone,
In my ivy-wreathen whole,
Loved and blessed by many a soul.

More than on my first, I ween,
With his brethren he hath been ;
But my third hath touched his brow,
And he waits in silence now ;

Hoping soon to see the day
When his second, far away,
May replace his trembling voice :
This shall make his third rejoice.