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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529408" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On the Death of Richard West</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529408" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">1 In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,<br>2 And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire;<br>3 The birds in vain their amorous descant join;<br>4 Or cheerful fields resume their green attire;<br>5 These ears, alas! for other notes repine,<br>6 A different object do these eyes require;<br>7 My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;<br>8 And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.<br>9 Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer,<br>10 And new-born pleasure brings to happier men;<br>11 The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;<br>12 To warm their little loves the birds complain;<br>13 I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,<br>14 And weep the more because I weep in vain.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Thomas+Gray">Thomas Gray</a></strong></div>

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