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Feeding each white pink, and each daisie pied,
That mingling paint his rushy-fringed side?
That mingling paint his rushy-fringed side?
Yet ah! cœlestial maids, ye are not dead;
Immortal as ye are, ye may not die:
And well I ween, ye cannot quite be fled,
E'er ye entune his mournful elegy.
Stay then awhile, O stay, ye fleeting fair;
Revisit yet, nor hallow'd Hippocrene,
Nor Thespia's shade; till your harmonious teen
Be grateful pour'd in some slow-dittied air.
Such tribute paid, again ye may repair
To what lov'd haunt you whilom did elect;
Whether Lycæus, or that mountain fair
Trim Mænalus, with piny verdure deckt.
But now it boots you not in these to stray,
Or yet Cyllene's hoary shade to chuse,
Or where mild Ladon's welling waters play.
Forego each vain excuse,
And haste to Thames's shores; for Thames shall join
Immortal as ye are, ye may not die:
And well I ween, ye cannot quite be fled,
E'er ye entune his mournful elegy.
Stay then awhile, O stay, ye fleeting fair;
Revisit yet, nor hallow'd Hippocrene,
Nor Thespia's shade; till your harmonious teen
Be grateful pour'd in some slow-dittied air.
Such tribute paid, again ye may repair
To what lov'd haunt you whilom did elect;
Whether Lycæus, or that mountain fair
Trim Mænalus, with piny verdure deckt.
But now it boots you not in these to stray,
Or yet Cyllene's hoary shade to chuse,
Or where mild Ladon's welling waters play.
Forego each vain excuse,
And haste to Thames's shores; for Thames shall join
Our
