All with dishevelled hair were seen to shower

"All with dishevelled hair were seen to shower Tears o'er the nymph, whose beauty did bespeak That Death had cropt her in her sweetest flower, Whilst youth bloomed rosiest in her charming cheek; Near the still water, in a cypress bower, She lay amongst the green herbs, pale and meek, Like a white swan that, sickening where it feeds, Sighs its sweet life away amidst the reeds."