TO THE MEMORY OF

MRS. STEWART.

How sleeps the wife, who sinks to rest,
By husband, friend, and children blest!
Connubial love, a matron mild,
And innocence, a smiling child,
And Honour, Truth, and Grief sincere,
There all attend her hallow'd bier.
And Memory, in time to come,
Shall oft revisit Anna's tomb,
With Fancy's aid, again retrace
Her fond, maternal, anxious face;
Then ev'ry sweetest flow'r entwine,
To deck beloved Anna's shrine.

ON THE REV. WILLIAM MASON, A, M.
Precentor of York.

THE Muess, struck with horror and despair,
Mourn their lov'd MASON, number'd with the dead,
And, frantic, pluck the laurel from their hair,
Placing the baleful cypress in its stead :
Mistaken Nine, your causeless grief restrain,
Suppress each needless tear, each useless sigh,
Nor, void of hope, continue to complain,

For know, your fav'rite Bard can never die,
The brazen monument, the marble bust,

Through length of time will moulder and decay, The mortal frame return once more to dust, "The spirit, freed, enjoy eternal day."

ON VOLTAIRE.

HERE lies "the mighty chief, the fam'd VOLTAIRE,
The Gallic God of literary war,"

Who stalk'd for sixty summers o'er the field,
With gall-dipp'd spear, and made each foe to yield,
Till Genius Candour met: a chief they chose,
By Pallas arm'd, this giant to oppose.

Her spear a quill, from eagle's wing pluck'd forth,
Her shield was modesty, her helmet worth;
Beneath her arm the mighty giant died,
Who wit, and sense, and virtue, had defied.

ON MRS. YATES,

THE CELEBRATED ACTRESS.

Too much the lesson of the poet's page,
That man but "frets his hour upon the stage:"
Alas! behold this monumental stone,

Which tells us YATES's "occupation's gone!"
Shall she, whose powers the passions could control,
And with feign'd terrors "harrow up the soul;"
Anon could steal into the soften❜d heart,
And wake the sigh, "by her so potent art;"
Shall she, unwept, descend into the grave?
No.-Grief is pious, though it cannot save.
Painful remembrance! let me offer here
The grateful tribute of an artless tear!
What tho' she mock'd grim Death in pageant shew,
And fed the transports of unreal woe;
No more our fancy 'wails the tragic Queen,
For Heaven has verified the DYING SCENE,

ST. HELEN'S, BISHOPSGATE.

BANCROFT'S

Monument in this Church is of a square form, and has the following inscription:

"The ground, whereon this tomb stands, was purchased of this parish in the year 1723, by Francis Bancroft, Esq. for the interment of himself and friends only, (and was confirmed to him by a faculty from the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's, London, the same year) and in his life time he erected this tomb, anno 1726, and settled part of his estate in London and Middlesex for beautifying and keeping the same in repair for ever."

This monument, which was erected a little before Bancroft's death, has an entrance at the west end, with folding wainscot doors, and a large pain `of glass in each, through which to see his coffin and bowel box. Bancroft, likewise by will, ordered the "lid of his coffin to be fixed thereon only with strong hinges, for the ready opening the same." It is supposed that he intended his corps should be as often viewed, by the committee of the Drapers' Company, as they visit his tomb, which they have done several times. The vulgar also report that a spring lock was made to fasten the coffin lid, the key of which was hung on a nail within the coffin, for the purpose of Bancroft's letting himself out after the expiration of a certain time, which he prophecied for his resurrection from the grave.

As the reader may be desirous of knowing something more of this extraordinary person, it is neces

sary to inform him that Francis Bancroft was for many years one of the Lord Mayor's Officers of the City of London, who, in the execution of his office, by information, and summoning the citizens upon the most trifling occasions, and for many things not belonging to his office; not only pillaged the poor, but likewise many of the rich, who, rather than lose time in appearing before the magistrate, gave money to get rid of this common pest of the citizens; by which, together with his numerous quarterages from brokers, &c. he annually amassed a considerable sum.

But by these and other mercenary practices, he so effectually incurred the hatred and ill will of the citizens of all denominations, that the persons who attended his funeral obsequies, with great difficulty saved his corpse from being justled off the bearers' shoulders in the church, by the enraged populace; who, seizing the bells, rang them for joy, at his unlamented death; a deportment heretofore unheard of even among the London rabble.

ON MRS. POLWHELE.

COULD magic verse recal the fleeted breath,
The lyre, sweet warbling, charm the ear of death,
Thy husband, tuning his Orphean strain,
Might lure thee to the bower of love again.
But thou, chaste soul! for highest bliss design'd,
He knows, art present with the eternal mind.
Hence, doom'd to silence, sleeps his harp unstrung,
Controll❜d each thought sublime, and mute his tongue,
Why join the sainted spirit to its clod?
Why sever the pure essence from its God?

BRODSWORTH, YORKSHIRE.

ON THE HON. MISS DRUMMOND,

By W. Mason.

HERE sleeps what once was beauty, once was grace; Grace, with that tenderness and sense combin'd To form that harmony of soul and face,

Where beauty shines, the mirror of the mind.
Such was the maid, that in the morn of youth,
In virgin innocence, in nature's pride,

Blest with each art that owes its charm to truth,
Sunk in her father's fond embrace and died.
He weeps: O venerate the holy tear :

Faith lends her aid to ease Affliction's load;
The parent mourns the child upon the bier,
The Christian yields an angel to his God.

In the Church-yard of BISHOP'S CANNINGS, in the county of Wilts.

Ат

my right hand lies my son John,
As we did lay in bed;

And there do lay, till Christ do say
Come out ye dead.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

Here lies HENRY PURCELL, Esq. Who left this life, and is gone to that blessed place, Where only his own harmony can be exceeded. Obiit 21 die Novembris, Anno Ætatis suæ 37. Anno. Dom. 1695.