University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Poems

by Dr. Dodd
  
  

collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT REVD. ANTHONY ELLIS, D. D.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
  
  
  


71

ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT REVD. ANTHONY ELLIS, D. D.

BISHOP OF ST. DAVID'S, &c.

TO THE LORD BISHOP OF CHESTER.
And must my little store of friends high priz'd,
Be lessen'd, gracious heaven! silent, I bow!
But feels the poor man more his one lamb's loss,
Than many fatlings from his plenteous stalls
The proud, and wreckless wealthy.—Oh, for thee,
In wisdom sage, how well could we have spar'd
Enow of those, who bear in the broad day,
Their friendship glist'ning on their brows, smile-clad;
Yet kill with absent stabs; nor hesitate
To blast young reputation in her bloom!
Against their breath envenom'd, who, like thee,
Shall teach to guard! who all the sacred arts
Of holy, happy, chearful, peaceful life
With winning grace inculcate!—not alone
By precept's slow deduction; when we heard,
We saw; th' example gave the lesson life.
Nor from the golden fleece, from wisdom's tree,
That with him flourish'd fair, were we restrain'd
Or by the dragon fierce of stern disdain;
Or flaming sword of sharp severity.
Engaging candor, condescension meek,
And affability, love's parent, bade

72

Approach: we came: and who, or unimprov'd
Return'd, or without heart-felt pleasure? Him
Learning herself delighted still to hear,
And from him gain'd new knowledge; deeply skill'd
In theologic science, he could well
Unfold the secrets of the hallow'd page;
Or well assert (for well he knew) the laws,
The constitution of that happy church,
Which boasted him a father! —Just her boast;
Yet, Herring , man of heart benevolent
And undissembled piety, of soul
Fit for the joys of heav'n—be thine the praise!
Thou, watchful, saw'st his worth, and bade it shine
In fairer day; saw him in knowledge ripe,
In piety, in judgment: like thyself,
As far from wild enthusiasm's stare,
As superstition's vacant eye; or look
Demure of sly hypocrisy.—Peace to you both,
E'er-honour'd pair! you reap in golden bliss,
The meed of your fair virtues, truth and love,
From the chief shepherd's hand.—Oh how I joy
To hold the fair examples forth, and shew
The envious maligners, on whose tongues
Sits venom'd calumny, that Britain yet
Hath priests, hath prelates, virtuous, able, good,
Religion's ornament!—Yes; these withdrawn
She still can boast.—Or if it were allow'd,
Or ere the sun is set, to sacrifice

73

To heroes—Thou, my muse, could'st also boast
Of him, fair candor's patron, who may well
Claim this just tribute to the friend he gave:
Noble munificence, to give a friend;
And such a friend! how rare the boon! of him
Whose winning mild humanity will deign
From thee to take this little cypress-wreath
Woven by gratitude, and wet with tears,
And hang it on his Ellis's lov'd urn!
But never may sad duty,—oh blest power
O'er life and death supreme, accept my prayer!—
Never may duty force me hence to weave
Another wreath like this, or to lament
The setting of his sun, who smil'd upon
My first—on my last labour may he smile!
And long—when silent o'er my memory
Oblivion broods—long may he live and shed
His virtue's influence to bless mankind!
 

See his Tracts, &c. lately puplished.

Late archbishop of Canterbury.