And from his memory inflame their breafts- Of highest wifdom brings about, 1745 8750 With peace and confolation hath dismist, 1700 THE END. LY CIDA S. In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend,unfortunately drown'din his paffage from Chefter on the Irish Seas, 1637. And by occafion foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy then in their height. Y ET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with Ivy never-fear, I come to pluck your Berries harsh and crude, And with forc'd fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Begin then, Sifters of the facred well, That from beneath the feat of Jove doth spring, With lucky words favour my deftin'd Urn ; And bid fair peace be to my fable shroud. Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with cloven heel But O the heavy change, now thou art gone, The Willows, and the Hazel Copfes green, Shall now no more be feen, Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy foft layes. As killing as the Canker to the Rofe, Or |