Various pieces in verse and prose By the late Nathaniel Cotton. Many of which were never before published. In two volumes |
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| EPITAPHS. |
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 | Various pieces in verse and prose |  |
52
EPITAPHS.
[Reader, approach my urn—thou need'st not fear]
Reader, approach my urn—thou need'st not fearTh'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!—Wrapt in pensive thought, survey
This little freehold of unthinking clay,
And know thy end!
Tho' young, tho' gay, this scene of death explore,
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.
The bleeding bosom, and the streaming eye;
Who feel the wounds a dying friend imparts,
When the last pang divides two social hearts.
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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 descry'd,
Kiss'd the stern mandate, bow'd his head, and dy'd.
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 descry'd,
Kiss'd the stern mandate, bow'd his head, and dy'd.
On Colonel Gardiner,
Who was slain in the Battle at Preston Pans, 1745.
While fainter merit asks the powers of verse,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.
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On Mr. Sibley, Of Studham.
Here lies an honest man! without pretenceTo 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,
Cloath'd 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.
On a Lady, who had laboured under a Cancer.
Stranger, these dear remains contain'd a mind
As infants guileless, and as angels kind.
Ripening for heav'n, by pains and sufferings try'd,
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 pow'r,
Hence firm and fearless in the dying hour!
As infants guileless, and as angels kind.
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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 pow'r,
Hence firm and fearless in the dying hour!
No venal muse this faithful picture draws,
Blest saint! desert like yours extorts applause.
Oh! let a weeping friend discharge his due,
His debt to worth, to excellence, and you!
Blest saint! desert like yours extorts applause.
Oh! let a weeping friend discharge his due,
His debt to worth, to excellence, and you!
| Various pieces in verse and prose | |