Farewell, fair Lennox! for severer themes Than Beauty now demand the muse’s care; The patriot’s brow the deathless laurel claims, While rosy chaplets best become the fair; Though gems grow dim in thy luxuriant hair, I seek the couch where lone Eliza lies— Alas! that hope should waken to despair, That tears should cloud affection’s doting eyes:— “Come, lady, fair, awake! the sun is in the skies.