39;d friends, when first thy heart
was taught by heav'n to glow,
far, far remov'd, the ruthless stroke
surpris'd and id thee low.
at the st limits of our isle,
wash'd by the western wave,
touch'd by thy face, a thoughtful bard
sits lonely by thy grave.
pensive he eyes, before him spread
the deep, outstretch'd and vast;
his m notes are borne away
along the rapid bst.
and while, amid the silent dead
thy hapless fate he mourns,
his own long sorrows freshly bleed,
and all his grief returns:
like thee, cut off in earl
Elegy On “Stella”(4/6)