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Poems on Various Subjects

with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden
 
 

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176

AN ELEGIAC POEM,

Occasion'd by the Death of The late Rev. Mr. John Bowden.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

By a LADY.
All hope is vain! call'd from this mortal state,
My guide! my friend at last resigns to fate.
Th' impatient spirit flies th' inactive clay,
And with it's convoy, mounts to realms of day.
In vain pale mourners his sad loss deplore
Clos'd are his eyes, the scenes of life, are o'er.
He quits this mortal stage with just applause;
A friend to virtue, to religions cause.
In vain dire envy rear'd her snaky head,
And with her forked tongue vile slanders spread;
Whilst bigotry, with black censorious arts
Level'd in vain, and threw her poison'd darts:
All impotent!—unblemish'd was his life;
Above detraction, calumny, and strife.

177

In him, true merit found a constant friend;
Peaceful his life as peaceful was his end:
Easy he sunk into the arms of death;
And, with a smile, resign'd his latest breath.
Droop, droop your heads, oh! all ye rural swains,
Who once attentive, catch'd his tuneful strains.
When Philomela, of immortal fame,
Call'd forth his Muse, and gave the darling theme;
The darling theme at once his soul inspir'd,
And with Apollo's wit his genius fir'd:
With other tuneful bards his lyre he strung,
And, equal to the theme unrival'd sung.
Tho' all expected from their well-wrote lays,
And justly merited distinguish'd praise,
Yet B****n only won, and wore the bays.
Hark! cease your lays, all grief forbear—on high,
What heav'nly music fills th' ætherial sky!
Celestial airs of praise, of love, and joy,
His golden harp with sweet delight employ.
There he enraptur'd joyns the sacred throng,
Oh! change your notes and joyn his sweet immortal song.