CORINNA TO LYCIDAS.

Where'er my Lycidas shall turn his eyes,
 May pleasures spring, and lovely prospects 'rise;
 While your Corinna, on the banks of Stower,
 In pensive sadness views each ripening flower:
 Why am I pensive? all things else are gay,
 Fawns dance around, and harmless lambkins play;
 Surrounding groves invite my steps to rove,
 Resembling that in which I learn'd to love;
 They each returning morn, grow fresher still,
 And happy birds their leafy branches fill;
 O lovely scenes! but what are these to me? 
Joy is no joy without society. 
If I a friend like Lycidas could find,
 To share my joys, or sooth my anxious mind;
 Then morn and night, I'd tune my cheerful lay,
 Sing with the birds, and be more glad than they;
 But while your absence I am doom'd to bear,
 Your fancied presence in my thoughts shall share;
 I'll bless the hour in which our love began,
 And ever be as constant as I can.