A ballad. Written about the time… Come listen to my mournful tale, Ye tender hearts and lovers dear! Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh… Nor need you blush to shed a tear.

How blithely pass’d the summer’s d… How bright was every flower! While friends arrived in circles g… To visit Damon’s bower! But now, with silent step I range

’Tis by comparison we know On every object to bestow Its proper share of praise Did each alike perfection bear, What beauty, though divinely fair,

’Tis said that under distant skies… Nor you the fact deny, What first attracts an Indian’s e… Becomes his deity. Perhaps a lily, or a rose,

Thus Damon sung-What though unkno… Umbrageous coverts hide my Muse a… Or mid the rural shepherds flow my… Amid the rural shepherds, I am fr… To view sleek vassals crowd a stat…

Near Avon’s bank, on Arden’s flow… A tuneful shepherd charm’d the lis… And sunny Cotsol’ fondly loved th… Yet not a garland crowns the sheph… Oh! lost Ophelia! smoothly flow’d…

The western sky was purpled o’er With every pleasing ray; And flocks reviving felt no more The sultry heats of day; When from an hazel’s artless bower

Aliusque et idem. Explanation. Another and the Same. When Tom to Cambridge first was s… A plain brown bob he wore;

Why droops this heart with fancied… Why sinks my soul beneath this win… What pensive crowds, by ceaseless… What myriads, wish to be as blesse… What though my roofs, devoid of po…

Born near the scene for Kenelm’s… I take my plaintive reed, and rang… And raise my lay, and bid the rock… The savage force of empire, and of… Fast by the centre of yon various…

Whilst round in wild rotations hur… These glittering forms I view, Methinks the busy restless world Is pictured in a few. So may the busy world advance,

Ah! ego non aliter tristes evincer… Optarem, quam te sic quoque velle… On every tree, in every plain, I trace the jovial spring in vain; A sickly langour veils mine eyes,

How pleas’d within my native bower… Erewhile I pass’d the day! Was ever scene so deck’d with flow… Were ever flowers so gay? How sweetly smil’d the hill, the v…

Again the labouring hind inverts t… Again the merchant ploughs the tum… Another spring renews the soldier’… And finds me vacant in the rural c… As the soft lyre display’d my wont…