Ah! ego non aliter tristes evincere morbos <br />Optarem, quam te sic quoque velle putem. <br /> <br />On every tree, in every plain, <br />I trace the jovial spring in vain; <br />A sickly langour veils mine eyes, <br />And fast my waning vigour flies. <br /> <br />Nor flowery plain, nor budding tree, <br />That smile on others, smile on me; <br />Mine eyes from death shall court repose, <br />Nor shed a tear before they close. <br /> <br />What bliss to me can seasons bring? <br />Or what the needless pride of spring? <br />The cypress bough, that suits the bier, <br />Retains its verdure all the year. <br /> <br />'Tis true, my vine, so fresh and fair, <br />Might claim awhile my wonted care; <br />My rural store some pleasure yield, <br />So white a flock, so green a field! <br /> <br />My friends, that each in kindness vie, <br />Might well expect one parting sigh; <br />Might well demand one tender tear; <br />For when was Damon insincere? <br /> <br />But ere I ask once more to view <br />Yon setting sun his race renew, <br />Inform me, Swains! my friends, declare, <br />Will pitying Delia join the prayer?<br /><br />William Shenstone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-v-on-every-tree-in-every-plain/
