| |
| TO fair Fidele’s grassy tomb | |
| Soft maids and village hinds shall bring | |
| Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, | |
| And rifle all the breathing Spring. | |
| |
| No wailing ghost shall dare appear | 5 |
| To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; | |
| But shepherd lads assemble here, | |
| And melting virgins own their love. | |
| |
| No wither’d witch shall here be seen, | |
| No goblins lead their nightly crew; | 10 |
| The female fays shall haunt the green, | |
| And dress thy grave with pearly dew. | |
| |
| The redbreast oft at evening hours | |
| Shall kindly lend his little aid, | |
| With hoary moss, and gather’d flowers, | 15 |
| To deck the ground where thou art laid. | |
| |
| When howling winds, and beating rain, | |
| In tempests shake thy sylvan cell; | |
| Or ’midst the chase, on every plain, | |
| The tender thought on thee shall dwell; | 20 |
| |
| Each lonely scene shall thee restore, | |
| For thee the tear be duly shed; | |
| Beloved, till life can charm no more; | |
| And mourn’d, till Pity’s self be dead. | |
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