Dedication To Leigh Hunt, Esq.
Glory
and
loveliness
have
pass'd
away;
For
if
we
wander
out
in
early
morn,
No
wreathed
incense
do
we
see
upborne
Into
the
east,
to
meet
the
smiling
day:
No
crowd
of
nymphs
soft
voic'd
and
young,
and
gay,
In
woven
baskets
bringing
ears
of
corn,
Roses,
and
pinks,
and
violets,
to
adorn
The
shrine
of
Flora
in
her
early
May.
But
there
are
left
delights
as
high
as
these,
And
I
shall
ever
bless
my
destiny,
That
in
a
time,
when
under
pleasant
trees
Pan
is
no
longer
sought,
I
feel
a
free,
A
leafy
luxury,
seeing
I
could
please
With
these
poor
offerings,
a
man
like
thee.
