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Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end,
INTENDED FOR MR. ROWE,
IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Thy reliques, Rowe! to this fair urn we trust, And sacred place by Dryden's awful dust : Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies, To wbich thy tomb shall guide inquiriog eyes. Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest! Bless'd in thy genius, in thy love, too, bless'd! One grateful woman to thy fame supplies What a whole thankless land to his denies.
ON MRS. CORBET, WHO DIED OF A CANCER IN HER BREAST. Here rests a woman, good without pretence, Bless'd with plaju reason and with sober sense: No conquest she but o'er herself desir’d, No arts essay'd but not to be admir’d. Passion and pride were to her soul unknown, Convinc'd that virtue only is our own. So unaffected, so compos’d a mind, So firm yet soft, so strong yet so refin’d, Heav'n, as its purest gold, by tortures tried; The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.
ON THE MONUMENT OF THE HON. R. DIGBY AND OF HIS SISTER
MARY, ERECTED BY THEIR FATHER LORD DIG BY, In the Church of Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, 1727. Go! fair example of untainted youth, Of modest wisdom and pacific truth : Compos'd in sufferings, and in joy sedate, Good without noise, without pretension great: Just of thy word, in every thonght sincere, Who knew no wish but what the world might hear : Of softest manners, unaffected mind, Lover of peace, and friend of humankind ! Go live! for Heaven's eternal year is thine; Go, and exalt thy moral to divine.
And thion, bless'd maid! attendant on his doom,
Yet take these tears, mortality's relief,
ON SIR GODFREY KNELLER,
IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 17 23. KNELLER, by Heav'n, and not a master tanght, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought; Now for two ages having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crown'd with princes' honours, poets' lays,
Living, great Nature feard he might ontvie
ON GENERAL HENRY WITHERS,
IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 17 29.
Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove
ON MR. ELIJAH FENTON,
AT EASTHAMSTED, BERKS, 1730. This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, ' Here lies an honest mau; A poet bless'd beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the proud and great; Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace.'
Calmly he look'd on either life, and here
ON MR. GAY, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 1732. Of manners gentle, of affections mild; In wit, a man ; simplicity, a child : With native humour tempering virtuous rage, Form'd to delight at once and lash the age : Above temptation in a low estate, And uncorrupted ev'n among the great: A safe companion, and an easy friend, Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end. These are thy honours! pot that here thy bast Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust: But that the worthy and the good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms-Here lies Gay!
INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON,
IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
HOC MARMOR FATETUR. NATURE and Nature's laws lay hid in night: God said, 'Let Newton be! and all was light.
ON DR. FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
BISHOP OF ROCHESTER,
WHO DIED IN EXILE AT PARIS, 1752. (His only daughter having erpired in his arms, immediately after she arrived in France to see him.)
DIALOGUE. She. Yes, we have liv’d-One pany, and then we
part! May Heaven, dear father ! now have all thy heart. Yet, ah! how once we loy'd, remember still, Till you are dust like me. He.
Dear shade! I will: Then mix this dust with thine-O spotless ghost ! O more than fortune, friends, or conntry lost ! Is there on earth one care, one wish beside ? Yes— Save my country, Heav'n!he said, and
ON EDMUND DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM,
The senate heard him, and his country lov'd. • Yet softer honours and less noisy faine
Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham :