210
Poems on
O! Woods! O! Wilds! O! every bow'ry Shade!
So often vocal by his Music made,
Now other Sounds,—far other Sounds return,
And o'er his Herse with all your Echoes mourn!—
Yet dare we grieve that soon the Paths he trod
To Heav'n, and left vain Man for Saints and God?
So often vocal by his Music made,
Now other Sounds,—far other Sounds return,
And o'er his Herse with all your Echoes mourn!—
Yet dare we grieve that soon the Paths he trod
To Heav'n, and left vain Man for Saints and God?
Thus in the Theater the Scenes unfold
A thousand Wonders glorious to behold;
And here, or there, as the Machine extends,
A Hero rises, or a God descends:
But soon the momentary Pleasure flies,
Swift vanishes the God, or Hero dies.
A thousand Wonders glorious to behold;
And here, or there, as the Machine extends,
A Hero rises, or a God descends:
But soon the momentary Pleasure flies,
Swift vanishes the God, or Hero dies.
Where were ye, Muses, by what Fountain side,
What River sporting when your Fav'rite dy'd?
He knew by Verse to chain the headlong Floods,
Silence loud Winds, or charm attentive Woods.
What River sporting when your Fav'rite dy'd?
He knew by Verse to chain the headlong Floods,
Silence loud Winds, or charm attentive Woods.
Nor
