Then wept the Nymphs; witness, ye waving shades!
Witness, ye winding streams! the Nymphs did weep;
The heav'nly Goddess too with tears did steep
Her plaintive voice, that echo'd thro' the glades;
And, "cruel gods," and "cruel stars," she cry'd:
Nor did the shepherds, thro' the woodlands wide,
On that sad day, or to the pensive brook,
Or stagnant river, drive their thirsty flocks;
Nor did the wild-goat bronze the steepy rocks;
And Philomel her custom'd oak forsook;
And roses wan were wav'd by zephyrs weak,
As Nature's self was sick;
And every lilly droop'd its velvet head;
And groan'd each faded lawn, and leasless grove;
Sad sympathy! yet sure his rightful meed,
Who charm'd all nature: well might Nature mourn
Thro' all her sweets; and flow'r, and lawn, and shade,
All vocal grown, all weep MUSAEUS dead.