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88

SONNET XVIII. ON THE DEATH OF THOMAS WARTON.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Say, shall the Muse o'er the fall'n hero's bier
Th'eternal monument of glory raise,
Swell the loud pæan of harmonious praise,
And high Ambition's banner'd trophies rear,
While silent flows the tributary tear
Which to her favourite Son the sorrowing pays,
Unstrung her useless lyre and mute her lays?
But hark! a strain divine now strikes mine ear:
The sacred Bard his independent fame
Shall from his own immortal verse receive.
Soon dies the Warrior's and the Statesman's name
His aid if no recording Poet give:
But wreaths of endless bloom shall Warton claim,
While Wit, while Learning, and while Fancy live.