Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent With Letters, Poems, and Appendices: By Claud Nugent: With Twelve Reproductions from Family Portraits by Sir Godfrey Kneller, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough and Others |
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| XVII. |
TO THE MEMORY OF THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLOTTE
VISCOUNTESS TOWNSHEND |
 | Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent |  |
TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLOTTE VISCOUNTESS TOWNSHEND
[_]
BARONESS FERRARS IN HER OWN RIGHT, WHO DIED AT LEIXLIP, IN IRELAND, ON THE 5TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1770.
By EARL NUGENT.
With down-cast look, and pitying eye,
Unarm'd the King of Terrors stood;
He laid his sting and horrors by,
Averse to strike the fair and good:
When thus an angel urg'd the blow—
“No more thy lifted hand suspend!
“To conscious guilt a dreaded foe,
“To innocence a welcome friend.
“Bright hosts of cherubs round her stand,
“To her and me confess'd alone;
“Each waving his celestial hand,
“And pointing to th' eternal throne.”
The angel spoke—nor husband dear,
Nor children lov'd (a mournful train)
Could from her eye attract one tear,
Nor bend one thought to earth again.
The soul, impatient of delay,
No more could mortal fetters bind,
But springing to the realms of day,
Leaves ev'ry human care behind.
Yet, oh! an infant daughter's claim
Demands from Heaven thy guardian care;
Protect that lovely, helpless frame!
And guard that breast you form'd so fair.
A parent's loss, unknown, unwept,
Thoughtless the fatal hour she past;
Or only thought her mother slept,
Nor knew how long that sleep must last.
When time th' unfolding mind displays,
May she, by thy example led,
Fly from that motley giddy maze,
Which youth, and guilt, and folly tread!
These never knew the guiding hand
Which leads to virtue's arduous way:
Mothers now join the vagrant band,
And teach their children how to stray.
Her shall the pious task engage,
(Such one was thine, with lenient aid)
A father's sorrows to assuage,
His love with equal love repaid.
So shall she read with ardent eye,
This lesson thy last moments give—
“They who, like thee, would fearless die,
“Spotless, like thee, must learn to live.”
Unarm'd the King of Terrors stood;
He laid his sting and horrors by,
Averse to strike the fair and good:
When thus an angel urg'd the blow—
“No more thy lifted hand suspend!
“To conscious guilt a dreaded foe,
“To innocence a welcome friend.
“Bright hosts of cherubs round her stand,
“To her and me confess'd alone;
“Each waving his celestial hand,
“And pointing to th' eternal throne.”
191
Nor children lov'd (a mournful train)
Could from her eye attract one tear,
Nor bend one thought to earth again.
The soul, impatient of delay,
No more could mortal fetters bind,
But springing to the realms of day,
Leaves ev'ry human care behind.
Yet, oh! an infant daughter's claim
Demands from Heaven thy guardian care;
Protect that lovely, helpless frame!
And guard that breast you form'd so fair.
A parent's loss, unknown, unwept,
Thoughtless the fatal hour she past;
Or only thought her mother slept,
Nor knew how long that sleep must last.
When time th' unfolding mind displays,
May she, by thy example led,
Fly from that motley giddy maze,
Which youth, and guilt, and folly tread!
These never knew the guiding hand
Which leads to virtue's arduous way:
Mothers now join the vagrant band,
And teach their children how to stray.
Her shall the pious task engage,
(Such one was thine, with lenient aid)
A father's sorrows to assuage,
His love with equal love repaid.
So shall she read with ardent eye,
This lesson thy last moments give—
“They who, like thee, would fearless die,
“Spotless, like thee, must learn to live.”
| Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent | |