A SONG, SUNG BY GUIDERIUS AND ARVIRAGUS OVER FIDELE, SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. BY MR. WILLIAM COLLINS. To fair Fidele's grassy tomb, Soft maids and village hinds shall bring No wailing ghost shall dare appear, And melting virgins own their love. No withered witch shall here be seen, Nor goblins lead their nightly crew: The redbreast oft at evening hours To deck the ground where thou art laid. When howling winds, and beating rain, The tender thought on thee shall dwell. Each lonely scene shall thee restore; And mourned till pity's self be dead. |