Sorrow's Faded Form, And Solitude Behind.

From Helicon's Harmonious Springs A Thousand Rills Their Mazy Progress Take.

A Fav'rite Has No Friend!

To Brisk Notes In Cadence Beating, Glance Their Many-twinkling Feet.

Beyond The Limits Of A Vulgar Fate, Beneath The Good How Far,-but Far Above The Great.

For Who, To Dumb Forgetfulness A Prey, This Pleasing Anxious Being E'er Resign'd, Left The Warm Precincts Of The Cheerful Day, Nor Cast One Longing Ling'ring Look Behind?