 | Poems on several subjects |  |
To the Memory of the Honourable George Hay of Leys, Esq
Gone then, great Hay! and shall my rustic Muse
A tribute to his memory refuse?
O Death, thy pow'r extensive is too far;
Thy sword devours in peace, as well as war:
Strange! that a tyrant should for ever reign!
All good and bad subjected to thy chain!
The brave and great, that mankind could defy,
Must in a moment, at thy pleasure die!
The peaceful, grave, and sober mortal must,
By thy austerity, be turn'd to dust!
A tribute to his memory refuse?
O Death, thy pow'r extensive is too far;
Thy sword devours in peace, as well as war:
Strange! that a tyrant should for ever reign!
All good and bad subjected to thy chain!
The brave and great, that mankind could defy,
Must in a moment, at thy pleasure die!
The peaceful, grave, and sober mortal must,
By thy austerity, be turn'd to dust!
134
Leys' brave ancestors stood the direful shock
At Loncarty, there thund'ring with the yoke
Regain'd the vict'ry, when it was near lost,
By turning back the fainting flying host;
Chear'd royal Malcolm's soul, who saw the day
Again restor'd by the undaunted Hay:
Yet these by thee, O cruel death, are slain;
But, spite of thee, their progeny remain.
At Loncarty, there thund'ring with the yoke
Regain'd the vict'ry, when it was near lost,
By turning back the fainting flying host;
Chear'd royal Malcolm's soul, who saw the day
Again restor'd by the undaunted Hay:
Yet these by thee, O cruel death, are slain;
But, spite of thee, their progeny remain.
Thou hast devour'd great Errol's house, 'tis true:
But yet the Hays thou never couldst subdue;
Kinnoul yet stands in honour and renown;
Antiquity thou never canst pull down.
But yet the Hays thou never couldst subdue;
Kinnoul yet stands in honour and renown;
Antiquity thou never canst pull down.
Leys peaceful, grave, and sober; yet thy dart
Found out a path to pierce his honest heart,
And cut him down: but as the phœnix dies,
Another from her ashes doth arise;
So Leys, though dead, a progeny succeeds,
To represent their great ancestors' deeds.
Found out a path to pierce his honest heart,
And cut him down: but as the phœnix dies,
Another from her ashes doth arise;
So Leys, though dead, a progeny succeeds,
To represent their great ancestors' deeds.
What can we say? Sure there is not a soul
That can the pow'r of conqu'ring death controul:
All we can do, is to lament and grieve
That cruel death ev'n lets not good men live.
That can the pow'r of conqu'ring death controul:
All we can do, is to lament and grieve
That cruel death ev'n lets not good men live.
Leys, not less famous in a peaceful reign,
Than his progenitors in a campaign.
If he'd been call'd, his valour had been shown,
And made the Hero and the Patriot one:
But, as he liv'd in such a peaceful age,
More useful studies did his mind engage.
Than his progenitors in a campaign.
If he'd been call'd, his valour had been shown,
And made the Hero and the Patriot one:
But, as he liv'd in such a peaceful age,
More useful studies did his mind engage.
He seeing farmers at such cost and toil,
For little produce by a barren soil;
He taught them how to cultivate the same,
And thereby purchas'd honour, wealth, and fame.
For little produce by a barren soil;
He taught them how to cultivate the same,
And thereby purchas'd honour, wealth, and fame.
Whereas Carse-farmers in the days of yore,
The more they toil'd, the less they had in store:
But now their wealth encreaseth with less pain;
Their barns enlarg'd cannot contain their grain:
All this is owing to the Laird of Leys,
By his example and his counsel wise.
The more they toil'd, the less they had in store:
But now their wealth encreaseth with less pain;
Their barns enlarg'd cannot contain their grain:
All this is owing to the Laird of Leys,
By his example and his counsel wise.
135
But now no more he treads the fertile plain,
T'inspect the labours of the rustic swain,
Directing how fields should be till'd and sown,
Or when and how the meadows should be mown:
No more he calls the swains and maids at morn
To rise, and reap his fruitful fields of corn:
No more he orders how to sort each grain,
And tell what should to ev'ry rick pertain:
No more he sits with a devout decorum,
To judge as justice of the peace in quorum.
Doubtless his consort, with a grieved mind,
Laments an husband dutiful and kind:
Doubtless his children mournfully deplore
A prudent father, that he is no more:
No doubt his friends the sable garments wear,
And on reflection often drop a tear.
The church and state may mourn, since, to their cost,
They both in him a faithful member lost:
In him all men a good example saw,
Of frugal life, religion, and of law:
He made the wicked of their deeds asham'd,
And dread him, if they only heard him nam'd.
But so it is, that mortals all must die,
Some in their bloom, some in their infancy;
And some arrive at such old age, that they
Like to a lamp, for want of oil, decay:
Thus Leys expir'd in good old age; and ev'n
Belov'd of all, of God, and ta'en to heav'n:
There the reward of virtue he enjoys,
An endless bliss that neither fades nor cloys.
T'inspect the labours of the rustic swain,
Directing how fields should be till'd and sown,
Or when and how the meadows should be mown:
No more he calls the swains and maids at morn
To rise, and reap his fruitful fields of corn:
No more he orders how to sort each grain,
And tell what should to ev'ry rick pertain:
No more he sits with a devout decorum,
To judge as justice of the peace in quorum.
Doubtless his consort, with a grieved mind,
Laments an husband dutiful and kind:
Doubtless his children mournfully deplore
A prudent father, that he is no more:
No doubt his friends the sable garments wear,
And on reflection often drop a tear.
The church and state may mourn, since, to their cost,
They both in him a faithful member lost:
In him all men a good example saw,
Of frugal life, religion, and of law:
He made the wicked of their deeds asham'd,
And dread him, if they only heard him nam'd.
But so it is, that mortals all must die,
Some in their bloom, some in their infancy;
And some arrive at such old age, that they
Like to a lamp, for want of oil, decay:
Thus Leys expir'd in good old age; and ev'n
Belov'd of all, of God, and ta'en to heav'n:
There the reward of virtue he enjoys,
An endless bliss that neither fades nor cloys.
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