That affection and tenderness fade and decay?
Though so easily pain'd, they endure like a gem,
And the heart and the mind imbibe colour from them!
In affliction they brighten, in absence refine,
And are causes of sorrow too sweet to resign.
THE OLD SHEPHERD'S RECOLLECTIONS.
Low, heavy clouds are hanging on the hills,
And half-impatient of the sun's approach,
Shake sullenly their cold and languid wings!