From "Laura" by Sir William Jones (1746-94) freely adapted from Petrarch Lines 71-82 Go, plaintive breeze! to Laura's flowery bier, Heave the warm sigh, and shed the tender tear. There to the awful shade due homage pay, And softly thus address the sacred clay: 'Say, envied earth! that dost those charms infold, 'Where are those cheeks, and where those locks of gold? 'Where are those eyes, which oft the Muse has sung? 'Where those sweet lips, and that enchanting tongue? 'Ye radiant tresses! and thou nectar'd smile! 'Ye looks that might the melting skies beguile! 'You robbed my soul of rest, my eyes of sleep; 'You taught me how to love, and how to weep.'
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