Original Poems and Translations :: :: University of Virginia Library

When now the sad solemnity is o'er,
And death-denouncing bells are heard no more,
Nor pausing cannon in loud notes declare
A nation's grief, and rend the troubled air;
Deign, mighty prince, these gentler sounds to hear:
Oh! were they worthy of the sovereign's ear,
The muse should greet Britannia's blissful isle
Where crown'd with liberty the Graces smile;
Where the pleas'd halcyon builds her tranquil nest,
No storms disturb her, and no wars molest:
For still fair peace, and plenty here remain'd
While George, the venerable monarch, reign'd.
One generation pass'd secure away,
‘Wise by his rules, and happy by his sway,’

Now cold in death the much lov'd hero lies,
His soul unbodied seeks her native skies:
The living laurels which his temples crown'd
Strike root, and shade his funeral pile around.

As when the Sun, bright ruler of the year,
Through glowing Cancer rolls his golden sphere,
He gains new vigour as his orb declines,
And at the goal with double lustre shines:

In splendor thus great George's reign surpast,
Bright beam'd each year, but brightest far the last:
Where-ever waves could roll, or breezes blow,
His fleet pour'd ruin on the faithless foe:
France saw, appall'd, the dreadful vengeance hurl'd,
And own'd him monarch of her Western world.
But now, alas! see pale Britannia mourn,
And all her sons lamenting o'er his urn.

Thus when Vespasian died, imperial Rome
With copious tears bedew'd the patriot's tomb;
But soon o'er sorrow bright-ey'd joy prevail'd,
When Titus her lov'd emperor she hail'd;

Titus, a blessing to the world design'd,
The darling and delight of human-kind.

With joy, great prince, your happy subjects view
A better Titus now reviv'd in you;
Of gentler nature, and of nobler blood,
Whose only study is your people's good:
For you, (so truly-is your heart benign)
To heathen virtues christian graces join.

O may heaven's providence around you wait,
And bless you with a longer, happier date;
Then will your virtue all its power display,
And noble deeds distinguish every day;
Joys unallay'd will sweetly fill your breast,
Your people blessing, by your people blest;
Then will the rage of rancorous discord cease,
The drooping Arts revive, and all the world have peace.

November 15, 1760.