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Thus paises o’er, thro' varied life's career,
Man’s fleeting age; the feasons, as they fly, Snatch from us in their course, year after year,
Some sweet connection, fome endearing tie. The parent, ever-honour'd; ever dear,
Claims from the filial breast the pious sigh ;
And gentle sorrows gush from Friendhip's eye.
Shall Heaven to me the drear abode asign?
Of these that rest beneath me, shall be mine? Haply, when Zephyr to thy native bourn
Shall waft thee o’er the storm'd Hibernian wave, Thy gentle breaft, my Tavistock , fhail mourn
To find me sleeping in the senseless grave. No more the social leisure to divide,
In the sweet intercourse of soul and soul,
The ling’ring years impatient as they roll,
The rude wind scatters o'er the billowy main ;
May rise to grasp their father's knees in yain.
Francis, Marquis of Tavistock, only son to the Duke of Bedford ; whose death, which happened on the 22d of March 1767, was occasioned by a fall from his horse, which he received while hunting a few days before.--Mr. Emily was Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and had been tutor to the Marquis : he died in the year 1762, being then Major of the Surry militia ; five years before the melancholy accident which deprived the world of his noble and universally lamented pupil. XX
Soon, Soon, foon may nod the fad funereal plume
With folemn horror o'er thy timeless hearse, And I survive to grave upon thy tomb
The mournful tribute of memorial verse ! That leave to Heaven's decision : be it thine,
Higher than yet a parent's wishes few, To foar in bright pre-eminence, and shine
With felf-earn'd honours, eager to pursue, Where glory, with her clear unsully'd rays, The well-born spirit lights to deeds of mightiest praife.
X. 'Twas she thy god-like Russel's bofom steel'd
With confidence untam'd, in his last breath Stern-smiling. She, with calm composure, held
The patriot'axe of Sidney, edg'd with death. Smit with the warmth of her impulsive flame,
Wolfe's gallant virtue flies to worlds afar, Emulous to pluck fresh wreaths of well-earn'd fame
From the grim frowning brow of laureld war. 'Twas the, that on the morn of direful.birth,
Bare'd thy young bosom to the fatal blow, Lamented Armytage ! the bleeding youth !
O bathe him in the pearly caves below, Ye Nereids and ye Nymphs of Camus hoar, Weep--for ye oft have seen him on your haunted hore.
XI. Better to die with glory than recline
On the soft lap of ignominious peace, "Than yawn out the dull droning life fupine
In monkih apathy and gowned ease.
The least division on the dial's round,
Grown old in floth, the burden of the ground;
* Sir John Armytage, member of parliament for the city of York, who was killed at St. Cas, in the year 1758.
Than tug with sweating toil the slavish oar
Of unredeem'd affliction, and sustain The fev'rous
of fierce diseases sore
A thousand maladies are posted round,
Unseen, like ambush'd Indians, till they wound. There the swoln Hydrop stands, the wat’ry Rheum,
The Northern Scurvy, Blotch with lep'rous scale ; And moping ever in the cloister'd gloom
Of learned Sloth, the bookish Asthma pale : And the shunn'd Hag unsightly, that ordain'd
On Europe's sons to wreak the faithless sword
O'er dog-ey'd luft the tort'ring scourge abhor'd
The chatt'ring Ague chill, the writhing Stone,
Unheeded croaks the death-bird's warning moan, Marasmus; knotty Gout; and the dead life
Of nerveless Palsy ; there, on purpose fell Dark brooding, whets his interdicted knife,
Grim Suicide, the damned fiend of hell. There, too, is the stunnid Apoplexy pight *,
The bloated child of gorg'd Intemperance foul ; Self-wafting Melancholy, black as night
Louring, and foaming fierce with hideous how!
The dog Hydrophoby, and near allied
With boiling fulphur fraught, and smouldering fires;
E'er while that stood o'er Taio's hundred spires
Powerful as that the fon of Amram bore,
He ftruck, the rocking ground with thund'rous roar
Now runs, now stops, then shrieks and scours amain,
With millions finks ingulph'd, and pillar'd fane;
The meagre Famine there ; and, drunk with blood,
Stern War; and the loath'd monster, whom of yore The slimy Naïad of the Memphian food
Engend'ring, to the bright-hair'd Phæbus bore, Foul Pestilence, that on the wide-Stretch'd wings
Of Commerce speeds from Cairo's swarthy bay His westering flight, and thro' the sick air flings
Spotted Contagion ; at his heels Dismay And Desolation urge their fire-wheel'd yoke
Terrible ; as long of old, when from the height Of Paran came unwrath'd the Mightiest, hook
Earth's firm fix'd base tottering; thro' the black night Glanc'd the flash'd lightnings ; heaven's rent roof abroad Thunder'd; and universal nature felt it's God.
Allading to the earthquake at Lisbon.
Of rouzed indignation, shall withstand
The bursting vengeance o’er a guilty land !
Tongue-doughty miscreant, who but now didit gore
Of agonizing mercy, bleeding fore ;
The sworded judgment stalking far and near?
Disclaims thee-guilt is ever quick of fear
Firm and collected in their virtue, brave
On the dread yawnings of the rav'nous grave:
Of honest praise hath reach'd the vale of death; Around him, like ministrant cherubs, throng
His better actions ; to the parting breath Singing their blessed requiems; he the while
Gently reposing on some friendly breaft, Breathes out his benizons; then with a smile
Of soft complacence, lays him down to rest, Calm as the slumbering infant: from the goal Free and unbounded flies the disembody'd soul,
XVIII. Whether fome delegated charge below,
Some much-lov'd friend it's hovering care may claim, Whether it heaven-ward foars, again to know
That long-forgotten country whence it came ;