nor even sol too fiercely view

thy bosoblushing still with dew!

y'st thou long, sweet crion ge

richly deck thy native ste

till so ev'ning, sober, cal

dropping dews, and breathing bal

while all around the woond rings,

and ev'ry bird thy requiesings;

thou, ad the dirgeful sound,

shed thy dying honours round,

and resign to parent earth

the loveliest forshe e'er gave birth.