William Gay

Here you will find the Poem To M. of poet William Gay

To M.

IF in the summer of thy bright regard 
 For one brief season these poor Rhymes shall live 
I ask no more, nor think my fate too hard 
 If other eyes but wintry looks should give; 
Nor will I grieve though what I here have writ 
 O?er burdened Time should drop among the ways, 
And to the unremembering dust commit 
 Beyond the praise and blame of other days: 
The song doth pass, but I who sing, remain, 
 I pluck from Death?s own heart a life more deep, 
And as the Spring, that dies not, in her train 
 Doth scatter blossoms for the Winds to reap, 
So I, immortal, as I fare along, 
Will strew my path with mortal flowers of song.