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in a well-known author.
81
And as feebly concludes thy once vigorous race,
See Envy's grim smiles are beginning to low'r!

Ah! little the sweet-warbled promise of morn
Presag'd fleeting Friendship's untimely decay,
Nor of life's dusky twilight, when dim and forlorn,
The gay hour of fame should be gliding away!

Ah! even thy Muse, like the world's giddy throng,
Ungrateful forsakes thee, and shuns thy decline!
No longer she deigns to awaken thy song,
Or mingle her high-soaring spirit with thine;

And the wreath which she gather'd in happier years,
Lov'd tribute, which only the Muse can bestow,
Now withering, neglected, and blighted with tears,
Hangs drooping and languidly over thy brow!