On Receiving a Picture of Swans

With pensive grace the melancholy Swan Mourns o'er the tomb of luckless Phaeton; On grassy banks the weeping poplars wave, And guard with tender care the wat'ry grave. Would that I might, should I too proudly claim An heav'nly parent, or a god-like fame.

When flown too high, and dash'd to depths below, Receive such tribute as a Cygnus' woe. The faithful bird, that dumbly floats along, Sighs all the deeper for his want of song!