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Myrtle-leaf that, ill besped, Pinest in the gladsome ray, Soil'd beneath the common tread Far from thy protecting spray!

When the Partridge o'er the sheaf Whirr'd along the yellow vale, Sad I saw thee, heedless leaf! Love the dalliance of the gale.

Lightly didst thou, foolish thing! Heave and flutter to his sighs, While the flatterer, on his wing, Woo'd and whisper'd thee to rise.

Gaily from thy mother-stalk Wert thou danc'd and wafted high-- Soon on this unshelter'd walk Flung to fade, to rot and die.

1797.