No wither'd witch shall here be seen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew;

The female fays shall haunt the green,

And dress thy grave with pearly dew;

The red-breast oft at evening hours

Shall kindly lend his little aid,

With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.

When howling winds, and beating rain,

In tempests shake the sylvan cell;

Or 'midst the chase on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell.

Each lonely scene shall thee restore,

For thee the tear be duly shed;

Belov'd, till life can charm no more;

And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.

O DE

ON THE

DEATH OF MR. THOMPSON.

THE SCENE OF THE FOLLOWING STANZAS IS SUPPOSED TO LIE ON THE THAMES,

NEAR RICHMOND.

I.

IN yonder grave a Druid lies

Where slowly winds the stealing wave!

The year's best sweets shall duteous rise

To deck its Poet's sylvan grave!

II.

In yon deep bed of whisp'ring reeds

His airy harp* shall now be laid,

That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds,

May love thro' life the soothing shade.

The harp of ÆOLUS, of which see a description in the CASTLE OF INDOLENCE,

The friend shall view yon whitening* spire,

And 'mid the varied landscape weep.

*RICHMOND Church,

With him, sweet bard, may Fancy die,

And Joy desert the blooming year.

VIII.

But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide

No sedge-crown'd Sisters now attend,

Now waft me from the green hill's side

Whose cold turf hides the buried friend!