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