The Poetical Works of William Collins/Song

For works with similar titles, see Song.
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SONG.

THE SENTIMENTS BORROWED FROM Shakespeare.

Young Damon of the vale is dead,Ye lowly hamlets, moan;[V 1]A dewy turf lies o'er his head,And at his feet a stone.
His shroud, which Death's cold damps destroy, 5Of snow white threads was made:All mourn'd to see so sweet a boyIn earth for ever laid.
Pale pansies o'er his corpse were placed,Which, pluck'd before their time, 10Bestrew'd the boy, like him to wasteAnd wither in their prime.
But will he ne'er return, whose tongueCould tune the rural lay?Ah, no! his bell of peace is rung, 15His lips are cold as clay.
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They bore him out at twilight hour,The youth who loved so well:Ah, me! how many a true love showerOf kind remembrance fell! 20
Each maid was woe—but Lucy chief,Her grief o'er all was tried;Within his grave she dropp'd in grief,And o'er her loved one died.

Variation.

  1. ↑ Ver. 2. Ye lowland hamlets, moan;
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