A text by William Collins. It is frequently referred to as the Dirge from Cymbeline, since it was frequently inserted into the Shakespeare play in eighteenth century productions.
1 To fair Fidele's grassy tomb
Soft maids and village hinds shall bring
Each opening sweet of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing Spring.
2 No wailing ghost shall dare appear,
To vex, with shrieks, this quiet grove;
But shepherd lads assemble here,
And melting virgins own their loves.
3 No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
No goblins lead the nightly crew;
But female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress the grove with pearly dew.
4 The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.
5 Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed;
Beloved till life can charm no more,
And mourned till pity's self be dead.
6 When howling winds and beating rain
In tempest shake the sylvan cell;
Or 'midst the chase, on every plain,
The tender thought on thee shall dwell.
7 Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed;
Beloved till life can charm no more,
And mourned till pity's self be dead.