Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other; The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true; The love which you felt was the love of a brother,...
Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd, Exploring every path of Ida's glade; Whom, still, affection taught me to defend, And made me less a tyrant than a friend,...
Ye Cupids droop each little head, Nor let your wings with joy be spread, My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead, Which dearer than her eyes she lov'd: For he was gentle and so true,...
He who, sublime, in epic numbers roll'd, And he who struck the softer lyre of Love, By Death's unequal[1] hand alike controul'd, Fit comrades in Elysian regions move!