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Mr. Cooke's Original Poems

with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language

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EPISTLE the Fifth, To the right honourable Thomas Earl of Pembroke, Occasioned by The Death of Dr. Samuel Clarke.
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79

EPISTLE the Fifth, To the right honourable Thomas Earl of Pembroke, Occasioned by The Death of Dr. Samuel Clarke.

Point out the Man who, from the Bloom of Youth,
Has fear'd to wander from the Paths of Truth,
Who, with a Genius to his Labours kind,
Traces the Workings of th'eternal Mind,
Who, thro a Nassau's and a Stewart's Reign,
Pass'd the high Scenes of Life without a Stain,
Whom, for his Wisdom and his Worth renown'd,
The Sun beholds with Years and Honours crown'd:
To him the Bard directs his plaintive Lays,
Inspir'd by Sorrow with the Song of Praise.

80

Pembroke attend: thy Virtues be my Guide,
Great Man, whose Friendship is my foremost Pride:
To thee, whom all the learned Arts adorn,
To Fame thro Virtue more than Titles born,
This Verse I send: indulge the pious Strain;
Nor think the Off'rings of the Muses vain:
With just Distinction they the dead survey,
And cast a Luster round the great Man's Clay:
E'en now, all grateful for his sacred Page,
They wait obsequious on the dying Sage,
Watch with melodious Grief his latest Breath,
Then hail him to the Life he gains by Death.
Give me the Worth you priz'd on Earth to tell,
And deign, my Lord, to join the last Farewel.
When Men illustrious to the Grave descend,
Of whom the World may say we mourn our Friend,
Whose Search unweary'd, and whose fruitful Care,
The Suns can witness, and the Nights declare,
Who with a cheerful Heart could Toils despise,
To mend our Morals, and improve the wise,
When Men like Clarke rever'd forsake the Day,
The Muse laments, and in no vulgar Way.
Your Fate, ye vain, your Fate, Ambition, know;
Behold the wise, the learned, Head lys low:

81

Hence be your Joy, hence be your boasted Pride,
To live like him, without a Fear who dy'd,
The just Asserter of th'almighty Cause,
Who trac'd thro Nature God's unering Laws:
How bless'd the Doctrine that the Sage has taught,
That passive Matter can produce no Thought!
Thence may the reas'ning Mind disclose a Ray
(How fair the Prospect!) of eternal Day.
Hence let my ravish'd Soul those Realms explore
Where Pains torment, and Doubts perplex no more:
Let Fancy paint the ever pleasing Scene,
For fading Verdure an immortal Green,
Where all Things lovely to the Sight arise,
Beneath the boundless and unclouded Skys:
From Bliss, to Bliss, enamour'd now we rove,
Soft thro th'enamel'd Mead, or vocal Grove:
There Sweets are wafted from the distant Coasts,
Sweets far beyond what either India boasts:
There blooms perpetual the cœlestial Flow'r,
More rich than ever deck'd a Syrian Bow'r.
Thro Worlds of Fragrance, Worlds of Light, we fly,
Beneath, O God! thine ever-watchful Eye:

82

Enhanc'd our Pleasures, and improv'd our Pow'rs,
The happy there shall never number Hours.
Aray'd with Glory shall the just endure
In unmolested Joys, and ever pure.
E'en now perhaps the venerable Shade
Retires with Angels to some heav'nly Glade:
See thy own Locke, my Lord, the converse join,
Newton profound, and Tillotson divine:
Revolving in their Breasts the Turns of Fate,
What anxious Moments in the human State,
Him the most bless'd they deem who early'st dy'd,
And pity Monarchs in their purple Pride.
In the bright Realms of everlasting Rest,
Where Clarke illustrious shines among the bless'd,
Superior Merit shall obtain the Prize,
The Man who look'd on all with friendly Eyes,
Who sought for Truth thro Virtue more than Fame:
Such late was Shaftesb'ry, never dying Name!
Heroic Souls, the Sons of Empire, there
Who view'd their Kingdoms with paternal Care,
Who made their Wills subservient to the Law,
Such our first Brunswick was, and such Nassau,

83

Shall meet, while Earth preserves their just Renown,
For transient Pomp an ever-during Crown:
And there the Champions who for Freedom stood,
Of Danger fearless for the public Good,
Men who, untaught to tyrant Pow'r to yield,
Pursu'd fair Honour thro the martial Field,
Like Marlb'ro' who sustain'd the glorious Strife,
And who like Ca'ndish grac'd a private Life,
Whose mortal Parts among his Fathers sleep,
While Virtue, Learning, and Augustus, weep.
Hail Shades triumphant! Hail Examples bright
Of worth exalted to those Worlds of Light!
Where the great Statesman shall securely rise,
Beyond the poys'nous Ken of envious Eyes,
To whom no Merit e'er apply'd in vain,
Of whom the worthless can alone complain,
Who ne'er deceiv'd his Friend, nor broke his Vow:
Godolphin such: such Chesterfield is now.
In ever-smiling Scenes the pious Train,
Priests who like Hoadley sacred Truths maintain,
Who strive by Reason to convince their Foes,
Who with a Christian Meekness Rage oppose,

84

Shall breathe the Sweetness of eternal Spring,
Where laugh the Mountains, and the Valleys sing,
Where Joys on Joys arise, where all is gay,
Enliven'd by the never-closing Day.
Far hence away are cast the impious Race,
Rebels to Virtue, and the World's Disgrace:
No Tyrant, whose Delight was Blood, is there,
Nor he who look'd unmov'd on human Care:
Nor views Hypocrisy the Face of God,
Nor Persecution with her iron Rod:
Alike excluded the cœlestial Plain
Are the detracting and the flatt'ring Train:
Nor to the Bow'rs of Paradise are led
The Nymphs unfaithful to the nuptial Bed;
Nor the false Swain is there, whose treach'rous Part
Was to seduce, then break, the tender Heart.
Far shall they wander from the Lawns of Joy
Who for their own another's Peace destroy:
Aray'd with Brightness shall they shine above
Who look on all Mankind with Eyes of Love.
May Heav'n, O! Pembroke, all our Vows regard,
And long detain thee from thy last Reward,

85

'E're the great Souls of Paradise you join,
Before those Arborets of Bliss are thine.
How oft' attentive have I pass'd the Day,
Led on, O! Wisdom, in thy flow'ry Way,
While on the classic Page thy Son refin'd,
Or with eternal Truths enrich'd my Mind:
Roll on, ye Suns, your annual Courses keep
Long 'e're the great Man leaves the World to weep.
Nov. 1729.