THEN sad CAFFRARO all his grief declares, And swells the torrent of the gulph with tears; And senseless stupid to the shore is borne In death-like slumbers, 'till the rising morn, Then sorrowing, to the sea his course he bent Full sad, but knew not for what cause he went, 'Till, sight distressing, from the lonely strand, He saw dead COLMA wafting to the land. Then in a stupid agony of pray'r, He rent his mantle, and he tore his hair; Sigh'd to the stars, and shook his honour'd head, And only wish'd a place among the dead! O had the winds been sensible of grief, Or whisp'ring angels come to his relief; Then had the rocks not echo'd to his pain, Nor hollow mountains answer'd him again: Then had the floods their peaceful courses kept, Nor the sad pine in all it's murmurs wept; Nor pensive deer stray'd through the lonely grove, Nor sadly wept the sympathising dove.-- Thus far'd the sire through his long days of pain, Or with his offspring rov'd the silent plain; Till years approaching, bow'd his sacred head Deep in the dust, and sent him to the dead: Where now perhaps in some strange fancy'd land, He grasps the airy bow, and flies across the strand; Or with his COLMA shares the fragrant grove, It's vernal blessings, and the bliss of love. FAREWELL lamented pair, and whate'er state Now clasps you round, and sinks you deep in fate; Whether the firey kingdom of the sun, Or the slow wave of silent Acheron, Or Christian's heaven, or planetary sphere, Or the third region of the cloudless air; Or if return'd to dread nihility, You'll still be happy, for you will not be.