On the Death of Mr. Richard West

Thomas Gray

In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,

And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire;

The birds in vain their amorous descant join;

Or cheerful fields resume their green attire:

These ears, alas! for other notes repine,

A different object do these eyes require;

My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine,

And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.

Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,

And newborn pleasure brings to happier men;

The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;

To warm their little loves the birds complain;

I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,

And weep the more because I weep in vain.

The 14 lines of this poem identify it as a(n)

A) ballad

B) epic

C) haiku

D) sonnet