A Pastoral on the Death of Mr. Oldham

On the remains of an old blasted oak, Unmindful of himself, Menalcas lean'd; He sought not now in heat the shade of trees, But shunn'd the flowing river's pleasing bank. His pipe and hook lay scatter'd on the grass, Nor fed his sheep together on the plain, Left to themselves they wander'd out at large. In this lamenting state young Corydon (His friend and dear companion of his hours). Finding Menalcas, asks him thus the cause.