SONNET [19] XIX. To Mr. Hayley. On receiving some elegant Lines from him. FOR me the Muse a simple band design'd Of 'idle' flow'rs, that bloom the woods among, Which with the cypress and the willow join'd, A garland form'd, as artless as my song: And little dar'd I hope its transient hours So long would last; compos'd of buds so brief; 'Till Hayley's hand among the vagrant flow'rs, Threw from his verdant crown, a deathless leaf. For high in Fame's bright fane has Judgment plac'd The laurel wreath Serena's poet won; Which, wov'n with myrtles by the hands of Taste, The Muse decreed, for this her favourite son. And those immortal leaves his temples shade, Whose fair eternal verdure — shall not fade!