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No.—These were vig'rous as their Gires.
Nor Plague nor Famiae came ; This annual tribute Death requires,
And never waves his claim.
Like crowded forest-trees we stand,
And some are mark'd to fall; The axe will smite at God's command,
And soon shall smite us all.
Green as the Bay-tree, ever green
With it's new foliage on, The Gay, the Thoughtless, I have seen,
I pass’d_and they were gone.
Read, ye that run! the solemn truth
With which I charge my page ; A Worm is in the Bud of Youth,
And at the Root of Age.
No present Health can Health infure
Forget an hour to come ;
Can always baulk the tomb.
And, Oh! that humble as my Lot
strain, These truths, though known, too much forgot, I may not teach in vain.
Clerk with all his heart,
And answer all-Amen!
Quod adest, memento
Could I, from Heav'n inspir’d, as sure presage
How each would trembling wait the mournful Sheet,
Time, then, would feem more precious than the Joys
on the Brink
Ah, self-deceiv'd! Could I, prophetic, fay,
Observe the dappled Foresters, how light
Had we their Wisdom, should we often warn'd,
Sad walle! for which no after-thrift atones :
grave admits no cure for guilt or fin. Dew-drops may deck the turf that hides the bones, But tears of godly grief ne'er flow within.
Learn then, ye living! by the mouths be taught
- Placidag; ibi demum morte quievil.
There calm, at length, he breath’d his soul away.
“Oh moft delightful hour by man
“ Experienc'd here below, “ The hour that terminates his span,
“ His folly, and his woe!
« Worlds should not bribe me back to tread,
“ Again life's dreary waste, " To see again my Day o'erspread
“ With all the gloomy Palt.
“ My Home henceforth is in the skies,
“ Earth, Seas, and Sun adieu ! 6 All Heav'n unfolded to my eyes,
“ I have no light for you."