The Wiccamical Chaplet a selection of original poetry; comprising smaller poems, serious and comic; classical trifles; sonnets; inscriptions and epitaphs; songs and ballads; mock-heroics, epigrams, fragments, &c. &c. Edited by George Huddesford |
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ON THE FUNERAL OF MR. ELWES
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 | The Wiccamical Chaplet |  |
177
ON THE FUNERAL OF MR. ELWES
In a Hearse and Six, followed by a Mourning Coach and Four.
What, Elwes in a Hearse convey'd?
And Six brave Nags to draw the Dead?
'Tis ruin!—why 'tis more by five
Than e'er convey'd him when alive.
And look, what follows!—more and more
Profusion, in a Coach and Four!
And Six brave Nags to draw the Dead?
'Tis ruin!—why 'tis more by five
Than e'er convey'd him when alive.
And look, what follows!—more and more
Profusion, in a Coach and Four!
Such waste of what thou liv'dst to save
Might break the quiet of thy Grave.
In what slow pomp the rogues advance,
Courting, as 'twere, Extravagance!
O! the vast charge of every night!
They revel, and set nothing by't:
But give, to have Thee lie in state,
More than thou e'er paidst there for meat.
What else? their dead and worthless load
They carry on the Turnpike road,
Paying—but they care nothing, They.
How many Gates there be to pay.
Plague on the Gates! how thick they are!
Five Pounds will soon be squander'd here.
Another, and another yet!
And Half-a-crown for every Gate.
Those Gates which thou didst always shun,
To save thy Pence from every one.
Alas! this needless cost is more
Than all th'extravagance before!
To stop such charge, at least, arise—
And shew them—where the Bye-way lies!
Might break the quiet of thy Grave.
In what slow pomp the rogues advance,
Courting, as 'twere, Extravagance!
O! the vast charge of every night!
They revel, and set nothing by't:
But give, to have Thee lie in state,
More than thou e'er paidst there for meat.
What else? their dead and worthless load
They carry on the Turnpike road,
Paying—but they care nothing, They.
How many Gates there be to pay.
Plague on the Gates! how thick they are!
Five Pounds will soon be squander'd here.
Another, and another yet!
And Half-a-crown for every Gate.
Those Gates which thou didst always shun,
To save thy Pence from every one.
Alas! this needless cost is more
Than all th'extravagance before!
To stop such charge, at least, arise—
And shew them—where the Bye-way lies!
| The Wiccamical Chaplet | |