TAKE to thy bosom, gentle Earth! a swain With much hard labour in thy service worn; He set the vines that clothe yon ample plain, And he these olives that the vale adorn. He filled with grain the glebe; the rills he led Through this green herbage, and those fruitful bowers; Thou, therefore, Earth! lie lightly on his head, His hoary head, and deck his grave with flowers. |