I see the melancholy lover laid,
Pleasing himself in that his pensive fit
With what you have on such occasion writ.
Another while (methinks) I seem to hear
'Mongst those, who sometimes will unbend their care.
And steal themselves out from the busy throng,
Your pleasant Songs in solemn consort sung.
Again (methinks) I see the grave Divine
20Lay by his other books, to look on thine,
And from thy serious and divine Review