 | Original poems on several subjects |  |
287
XVII. Epitaph on an unhappy young Man.
Refrain, officious reader, to inquireWhat virtues once did the deceas'd inspire?
What splendid titles his descent adorn?
What station held he? of what parents born?
Consign'd to dust, nought it avails thee, now,
To be instructed, whither, whence, or how,
He came—he liv'd—is gone—these to conceal,
Kind Death o'er all has spread his friendly veil.
Your curious search let this inscription bound,
On monumental marbles seldom found,
For seldom Truth the scuptor's chissel tries,
A hapless youth here in oblivion lies,
Who sinn'd—so have the worthiest and the best,
His God and Saviour only know the rest.
Whether, O reader, more desert thy share,
And fewer faults, thy tomb-stone will declare.
| Original poems on several subjects | |