53
TO THE MEMORY OF WILLIAM SHENSTONE.A PASTORAL POEM.
Ye shepherds, attend to my strain,
While I sing of your Corydon's praise;
He was truly the pride of the plain,—
O, assist me a tribute to raise!
While I sing of your Corydon's praise;
He was truly the pride of the plain,—
O, assist me a tribute to raise!
A tribute to him I admire,
For his tenderness, talents, and worth;—
Ah, shepherds! how vain the desire
We shall e'er see his equal on earth!
For his tenderness, talents, and worth;—
Ah, shepherds! how vain the desire
We shall e'er see his equal on earth!
And, Corydon, was there a heart
Which, unmelted, could hear thee complain?
A nymph who could bid thee depart,
Nor, relenting, recall thee again?
Which, unmelted, could hear thee complain?
A nymph who could bid thee depart,
Nor, relenting, recall thee again?
