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The attribution of this poem is questionable.
Put on a dark and mournful veil,
Ye bright and balmy skies;
Hush! quell thy laughter merry gale,
Breathe soft; for Friendship dies!
Be still ye merry dancing leaves,
Ye host of little flies,
Lay by your music softest breeze,
Good heavens Friendship dies!
Bring now thy offerings sweetest flowers,
And spread them o'er the bed;
Come thou sweet Jesmine from thy bowers,
Come all, for Friendship's dead.
Ye Rose's weep your tears of dew,
Sweet Lily, bow your head;
Ye warbling throng, and feather'd crew,
Weep now for Friendship's dead!
And thou sweet little token flower,
Haste on to thy last bed,
Close thy bright eye from this sad hour,
And weep—For Friendship's dead.
Come Eglantine, and Violet blue,
Sweet Brier, and Rose's red;
Weep now thy odoreforous dew;
For Friendship—Friendship's dead!
Ye murmuring streams continue on,
Oer thy cold pibl'y bed,
Thy music tells of one that's gone,
Of Friendship—Friendships dead!
Ye Butterflies throw off that smile,
'Tis fit for those that wed;
Come join with us, and weep awhile!
Oer Hope, and Friendship dead!
Around the couch now take thy stand,
Weep for the spirit fled,
Join mourners all, join hand in hand,
For your sister, Friendship's dead.
Sweet token flowers and all that grieve
Ye have told your tale, and fled,
I'll gather up the withered leaves,
And scatter them o'er the dead.
