On Receiving a Picture of Swans



With pensive grace, the melancholy Swan Mourns o'er the tomb of luckless Phaethon; On grassy banks the weeping poplars wave, And guard with tender card the wat'ry grave. Would that I might, should I too proudly claim An Heav'nly parent, or a God-like fame; When flown too high, and dash'd to depths below, Receive such tribute as a Cygnus' woe! The faithful bird, that dumbly floats along, Sighs all the deeper for his want of song.