READER, approach my urn-thou needst not fear
The' extorted promise of one plaintive tear,
To mourn thy unknown friend.-From me thou❜lt
learn
More than a Plato taught-the grand concern
Of mortals!-Wrapp'd in pensive thought, survey
This little freehold of unthinking clay;
[explore; Though young, though gay, this scene of death Alas! the young, the gay is now no more!
ON ROBERT CLAVERING, M. B.
OH! come, who know the childless parent's sigh,
The bleeding bosom, and the streaming eye;
Who feel the wounds a dying friend imparts,
When the last pang divides two social hearts.
This weeping marble claims the generous tear,
Here lies the friend, the son, and all that's dear.
He fell full blossom'd in the pride of youth,
The nobler pride of science, worth, and truth.
Calm and serene he view'd his mouldering clay,
Nor fear'd to go, nor fondly wish'd to stay:
And when the king of terrors he descried,
Kiss'd the stern mandate, bow'd his head, and died.
WHO WAS SLAIN IN THE BATTLE OF PRESTON PANS,
WHILE fainter merit asks the
Our faithful line shall Gardiner's worth rehearse. The bleeding hero and the martyr'd saint Transcends the poet's pen, the herald's paint. His the best path to fame that e'er was trod, And surely his-a glorious road to God.
HERE lies an honest man! without pretence
To more than prudence, and to common sense;
Who knew no vanity, disguise, nor art;
Who scorn'd all language foreign to the heart.
Diffusive as the light his bounty spread,
Clothed were the naked, and the hungry fed.
These be his honours!' honours that disclaim The blazon'd scutcheon, and the herald's fame! Honours! which boast defiance to the grave, Where (spite of Anstis) rots the garter'd knave,
WHO HAD LABOURED UNDER A CANCER.
STRANGER, these dear remains contain'd a mind
As infants guileless and as angels kind.
Ripening for heaven, by pains and sufferings tried;
To pain superior, and unknown to pride.
Calm and serene beneath affliction's rod,
Because she gave her willing heart to God!
Because she trusted in her Saviour's power,
Hence firm and fearless in the dying hour!
No venal Muse this faithful picture draws;
Bless'd saint! desert like yours extorts applause.
Oh! let a weeping friend discharge his due;
His debt to worth, to excellence, and you!
ON MR. THOMAS STRONG;
WHO DIED ON THE 26TH of december, 1736.
IN action prudent, and in word sincere,
In friendship faithful, and in honour clear;
Through life's vain scenes the same in every part,
A steady judgment and an honest heart.
Thou vaunt'st no honours-all thy boast, a mind
As infants guileless and as angels kind.
When ask'd to whom these lovely truths belong, Thy friends shall answer, weeping, 'Here lies Strong.'
WHO DIED OCTOBER 25, 1736; ÆTAT. 28.
BEAUTEOUS, nor known to pride, to friends sincere,
Mild to thy neighbour, to thyself severe;
Unstain'd thy honour-and thy wit was such,
Knew no extremes, nor little nor too much.
Few were thy years, and painful through the whole,
Yet calm thy passage and serene thy soul.
Reader, amidst these sacred crowds that sleep', View this once lovely form, nor grudge to weep.O death all terrible! how sure thy hour!
How wide thy conquests! and how fell thy power! When youth, wit, virtue plead for longer reign; When youth, when wit, when virtue plead in vain : Stranger, then weep afresh-for know, this clay Was once the good, the wise, the beautiful, the gay.
JOHN DUKE OF BRIDGEWATER;
WHO DIED IN THE TWENTY-FIRST YEAR OF HIS AGE, 1747-8.
INTENT to hear, and bounteous to bestow,
A mind that melted at another's woe;
Studious to act the self-approving part,
That midnight music of the honest heart!
1 The author is supposed to be inscribing the character of the deceased upon her tomb, and therefore crowds that sleep' mean the dead.
Those silent joys the' illustrious youth possess'd,
Those cloudless sunshines of the spotless breast!
From pride of peerage, and from folly free,
Life's early morn, fair Virtue! gave to thee;
Forbad the tear to steal from sorrow's eye,
Bade anxious Poverty forget to sigh;
Like Titus, knew the value of a day;
And Want went smiling from his gates away.
The rest were honours borrow'd from the throne;
These honours, Egerton, were all thy own!
ON THE REV. SAMUEL CLARK;
WHO DIED DECEMBER THE 26TH, AGED 42.
WHAT! though such various worth is seldom known,
No adulation rears this sacred stone,
No partial love this genuine picture draws,
No venal pencil prostitutes applause:
Justice and truth in artless colours paint
The man, the friend, the preacher, and the saint.
C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick.
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