Classic Poem

An Elegy

Ye joys of youth, no longer ye can please,
The canker care preys on my vernal bloom,
My frame declines by flow, but sure disease,
And nature marks me for an early tomb.

Though short my life, yet I have learn'd to die,
Nor dread the prospect soon to be no more;
To love, to friendship, let me give a sigh;
'Tis done—the parting conflict now is o'er.

Who saw me once, when they shall cease to see,
Will not remember that they e'er had seen;
When once no more, how quickly shall I be
Fore'er forgotten, as I ne'er had been.

Nor sun nor skies will change their chearful hue,
Flow'rs sinell less sweet, or fields appear less gay,
Nor less their sports or bus'ness men pursue,
Though I'm from earth untimely snatch'd away.

Yet happly those, who knew my early days,
Who witness'd how I wish'd, and how I try'd,
Will not with-hold the tribute of their praise
To what I'd been had life its space supply'd.

And friends will to the mem'ry give a sigh
Of one whom they esteem'd and valu'd here,
And Delia, dearer still, when wand'ring by,
Will on her lover's ashes drop a tear.English