University of Virginia Library

TO THE MEMORY OF The Illustrious Princess, ANNE Dutchess of Hamilton, Who died at her Apartments in the Palace of Holy-rood-house, August 1724.

Gone then, Illustrious Fair! And shall the Muse
Her Duty to thy Memory refuse?
No, no; The Muse attends the sacred Hearse,
With the just Tribute of a native Verse:
Trembling she stands, and views the dismal Scene,
And in sad Accents thus repeats the Strain—
Gone then, illustrious Fair! The Eccho's round,
In hollow Notes, return the dying Sound.
With Thee all Virtues and all Goodness fly,
Abandon Earth, and hasten to the Sky.
The mournful Nymph, and the dejected Swain,
Amaz'd, forsake the inauspicious Plain;
The feather'd Songsters, thro' the gloomy Groves,
Renounce their Musick, and disclaim their Loves.
Horrour sits brooding on th'abandon'd Shore,
And the departed Graces charm no more.
Cou'd thine Angelick Form, or glorious Race,
Have added to the Number of thy Days;
Thy matchless Beauty, and thy Princely State,
Had strove for Conquest, and disputed Fate.
Cou'd all the Virtues blended in thine Heart,
Have stood the Shock, or stopt the fatal Dart;
Then had the Tyrant aim'd his Shafts in Vain,
And the fair Saint had triumph'd on the Plain.
Fond Thoughts!
Nor durst those Shafts that heav'nly Form assail,
Nor cou'd the Tyrant o'er the Saint prevail.
Angels beheld her with a loving Eye,
All form'd for Bliss, and fitted for the Sky.
At once they bow before th'Immortal Throne,
And point where earthly Graces match their own.
Then spoke th'Almighty!
Seraphs! Rescue the Saint from Pain and Noise,
And plant her Soul amidst your richest Joys.
The Pow'rs obey'd!
Then straight a mighty Squadron wings its Way,
And downward rides, triumphant on the Day.
The floating Host, thro' Fields of fluid Air,
Reflects new Glories on each brightned Sphere.
Those Regions past, the gay Immortal Crowd,
All flaming, o'er the regal Fabrick stood.
Just as the Fair in pious Raptures rose,
And for her Theme the Blest Messiah chose;
Lo! thro' the Dome bright Raphael softly stole,
And 'midst th'Ejaculation catch'd her Soul.
Back thro' the Air they wing their rapid Way,
And rise in louder Anthems on the Day.
Cease then, Illustrious Prince! Nor ask Relief
From this wild Rage, and Luxury of Grief.
Mourn not the pious Fair, nor let thy Cry
Molest th'Harmonious Seraphs on their Way:
Grateful resign what God had kindly given,
Nor once dispute the Property of Heav'n.