Th Queen’s Epicedium

No, Lesbia no, you ask in vain
My harp, my mind's unstrung
When all the world's in tears, in pain
Do you require a song?

See, how ev'ry nymph and swain
Hang down their heads, and weep!
No voice nor pipe is heard in all the plain
So great their sorrows, they neglect their sheep

The Queen of Arcadie is gone!
Lesbia, the loss can't be expressed
Not with the deepest sigh, or groan
Or throbbings of the breast

Ah! poor Arcadians, how they mourn
Oh! the delight and wonder of their eyes!
She's gone, and nevеr must return:
Their star is fix'd, and shines bеyond the skies