University of Virginia Library


251

SONG.

[When bleeding Nature droops to die]

When bleeding Nature droops to die,
And begs from Heav'n th' eternal sleep,
Hard is the heart that cannot sigh,
And curs'd the eye that scorns to weep.
How rich the tear by Pity shed!
How sweet her sighs for human woes!
They pierce the mansions of the dead,
And sooth the spectre's pale repose.