William Gay - To M. lyrics

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'erburdened Time should drop among the ways, And to the unremembering dust commit Beyond the praise and blame of other days: The song doth pa**, but I who sing, remain, I pluck from d**h'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.