University of Virginia Library

Beneath a shade, that overlook'd a Sea,
To whom a Chrystal stream did Homage pay,
A Fisher, arm'd with skill and patience, stood,
Whose Age bespoke him Native of the flood:
By' whose Antick look and garb the Fish deceiv'd,
Him but a Tree's poor leafless Trunk believ'd:
Round whom the credulous Fry did fearless play,
While he with Specious baits did them betray.
It happ'd, as he his quiet Art employ'd,
Which him with Sport and Livelihood suppli'd;
Something far off did on a Billow ride:
And as he watch'd his Quill with patient care,
The moving Waves had brought the body near.
A lovely Youth, perhaps some Virgin's flame,
Perhaps his Father's joy, that should uphold his Name,
With mournfull Miene, to beg a Burial came.
The Aged Fisher the sad Object view'd
And doubly him with briny Tears bedew'd.

“Death makes a dreadfull change! perhaps (said he)
“Thou mightst the Favourite of some Monarch be:
“Nothing is spar'd by Death or by the Sea.
“Perhaps, said he, some Love-sick Maid doth wait
“Thy safe return, nor dreams of thy sad fate;
“Counts every Moment of thy tedious stay,
“And thinks each hour an Age doth bear away!
“To our own doom we'r Ignorant and blind,
“Much less, what haps to distant friends, can find.
“Perhaps—alas, what may not we suppose;
“And yet what thoughts shall we in errour loose?
“Time past lyes hid, as well as Time to come,
“And we of both in vain enquire the doom.
“Physiognomists pretend events to tell,
“But can't, what hapned to the dead, reveal:
“Both unintelligible Mysteries ly,
“What hath been, or what future times shall be.
“That which is sure, is, thou dost want a Grave,
“The resting place indulgent Nature gave,
“That, which the Rich with all their Treasures buy,
“Nor Mother Earth doth to the Poor deny,
“Where Kings and Peasants, Spades and Scepters ly.
“Thy restless Soul wanders in devious ways,
“Not suffered the Stygian Lake to pass;
“While thy cold Members dance upon the Sea,
“And thy unburied Corps a prey doth ly.
“There is a debt we owe to all Mankind,
“Not to Relations or to Friends confin'd:
“The whole World in our kindness claims a share,
“And every One in need demands our Care.
“Thou nothing needest, and dost nothing crave,
“But, what's in all Mens power to give, a Grave.
“Riches I've none, nor dost thou need them now,
“That which I have I freely will bestow,
“A Grave is the last Favour I can show.

The Gods the Aged Man's intention heard,
And, that his piety they might reward,
Where he a Grave with trembling Members made,
A mass of Treasure underneath convey'd.
Vertue, that seldom her Reward doth gain,
But cloath'd in Rags despised doth remain,
While gilded Vice in costly State doth Reign,
Rich now by th' gift of Bounteous Heaven doth grow;
Who to th' mistaken World design'd to show,
What is to Piety and Vertue due.