 | Westminster-Abbey |  |
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Westminster-Abbey:
A POEM.
Muse, leave a while soft Venus and her Joys,
Her wanton Sparrows and her blooming Boys.
Love's flaming Brand aside neglectful throw,
His shining Arrows and his bending Bow.
Throw a thick Veil around thy radiant Head,
And lead me through the Dwellings of the Dead:
Where Loves no more but marble Angels moan,
And little Cherubs seem to sob in Stone.
Her wanton Sparrows and her blooming Boys.
Love's flaming Brand aside neglectful throw,
His shining Arrows and his bending Bow.
Throw a thick Veil around thy radiant Head,
And lead me through the Dwellings of the Dead:
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And little Cherubs seem to sob in Stone.
Not daring to attempt th'extended View,
Nor draw the Draughts Majestick Denham drew;
Nor throw in never-fading Shades the Green
Of Windsor's-Forest, and the Sylvan Scene;
Nor in the lively painted Landskip show
Woodstock's inspir'd Groves, or Clermont's shaggy Brow:
I pensive, to more solemn Scenes retire;
To the long founding Isle, and hallow'd Quire:
Where moss-grown Turrets crown the Reverend Seat,
And Battlements with chattering Daws replete:
In holy Contemplation wrap'd, profound,
Indulg'd by the loud-pealing Organ's Sound:
With Eye erect the figur'd Roof behold,
Rich with Intaglio, and bestreak'd with Gold;
While the gay-pictur'd Windows, richly dight,
Project a painted Shade and stain the Rays of Light.
My Mind prepar'd by Images like these,
And lower'd to sober Thought by just Degrees;
Lead on my Muse, while trembling I essay,
To trace thy Footsteps thro' the cloyster'd Way;
Where faded Guidons now by Age decay'd,
Hang nodding lazy o'er their Master's Head;
Banners once waving terrible in War,
Entang'ling Webbs, and dusty Ruin share;
Brighten the Trophies from the eating Rust,
And from the Marble Statues wipe the Dust;
Repair the chap-fall'n Helm, the Corslet gila,
And clean the Colours of the dusty Shield.
Seize plodding Time, and stop him in his Way,
Restrain his Pinion, and intreat his Stay;
Bid him recline his Scythe on every Tomb,
And name the Tenant of the darksome Room:
Tombs, which no more their Characters retain;
Where marble Statues blow the Trump in vain;
Where raiz'd Inscriptions under Ruins lye,
Hid, like their Owners, in Obscurity.
Nor draw the Draughts Majestick Denham drew;
Nor throw in never-fading Shades the Green
Of Windsor's-Forest, and the Sylvan Scene;
Nor in the lively painted Landskip show
Woodstock's inspir'd Groves, or Clermont's shaggy Brow:
I pensive, to more solemn Scenes retire;
To the long founding Isle, and hallow'd Quire:
Where moss-grown Turrets crown the Reverend Seat,
And Battlements with chattering Daws replete:
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Indulg'd by the loud-pealing Organ's Sound:
With Eye erect the figur'd Roof behold,
Rich with Intaglio, and bestreak'd with Gold;
While the gay-pictur'd Windows, richly dight,
Project a painted Shade and stain the Rays of Light.
My Mind prepar'd by Images like these,
And lower'd to sober Thought by just Degrees;
Lead on my Muse, while trembling I essay,
To trace thy Footsteps thro' the cloyster'd Way;
Where faded Guidons now by Age decay'd,
Hang nodding lazy o'er their Master's Head;
Banners once waving terrible in War,
Entang'ling Webbs, and dusty Ruin share;
Brighten the Trophies from the eating Rust,
And from the Marble Statues wipe the Dust;
Repair the chap-fall'n Helm, the Corslet gila,
And clean the Colours of the dusty Shield.
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Restrain his Pinion, and intreat his Stay;
Bid him recline his Scythe on every Tomb,
And name the Tenant of the darksome Room:
Tombs, which no more their Characters retain;
Where marble Statues blow the Trump in vain;
Where raiz'd Inscriptions under Ruins lye,
Hid, like their Owners, in Obscurity.
With wild Surprize I cast my Eyes around,
And press with trembling Feet the holy Ground;
A sacred, solemn Fire inflames my Soul,
My Breast a thousand crouding Thoughts controul.
And press with trembling Feet the holy Ground;
A sacred, solemn Fire inflames my Soul,
My Breast a thousand crouding Thoughts controul.
Say, shall I sing of Man's uncertain State,
And prove from hence the various Laws of Fate:
The doubtful Chance of hapless Mortals show,
And strange Vicissitude of Things below:
The sure Event of humane Life display,
Man's feeble Power, and Death's unbounded Sway:
Whom, nor can Might oppose, nor Wealth intreat;
Nor Learning's Influence his Attempts defeat;
Nor Piety with most prevailing Pray'r;
Nor fenceful Shields, nor forceful Arms in War:
Impartial to the Great, the Learn'd, the Brave,
The lab'ring Peasant, and the shackel'd Slave,
He joins the Rochet and the Coat of Mail,
And in his Fasces binds the Scepter with the Flail.
And prove from hence the various Laws of Fate:
The doubtful Chance of hapless Mortals show,
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The sure Event of humane Life display,
Man's feeble Power, and Death's unbounded Sway:
Whom, nor can Might oppose, nor Wealth intreat;
Nor Learning's Influence his Attempts defeat;
Nor Piety with most prevailing Pray'r;
Nor fenceful Shields, nor forceful Arms in War:
Impartial to the Great, the Learn'd, the Brave,
The lab'ring Peasant, and the shackel'd Slave,
He joins the Rochet and the Coat of Mail,
And in his Fasces binds the Scepter with the Flail.
Round Sainted
Edward's Chapel turn thy Eyes,
Where gilded Majesty in Ruin lies.
Here Princes glowing sit with purple State,
Here lay their Heads beneath the Foot of Fate.
To mount his Throne, the Monarch bends his Way,
O'er Pavements where his Predecessors lay;
Sure to revisit the old sacred Fane,
When he'as perform'd his Part, and acted thro' his Reign.
Where gilded Majesty in Ruin lies.
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Here lay their Heads beneath the Foot of Fate.
To mount his Throne, the Monarch bends his Way,
O'er Pavements where his Predecessors lay;
Sure to revisit the old sacred Fane,
When he'as perform'd his Part, and acted thro' his Reign.
Ye Sons of Empire, who in pompous Hour!
Attend to wear the cumb'rous Robes of Pow'r,
When you proceed along the shouting Way,
Think there's a second Visit still to pay:
Now purple Pride, and shouting Joy appears;
Then black Procession, and attending Tears.
Attend to wear the cumb'rous Robes of Pow'r,
When you proceed along the shouting Way,
Think there's a second Visit still to pay:
Now purple Pride, and shouting Joy appears;
Then black Procession, and attending Tears.
And when in State on buried Kings you tread,
And swelling Robes sweep spreading o're the dead;
While, like a God, you cast your Eyes around,
Think then, O think! you walk on treach'rous Ground.
Tho' firm the checquer'd Pavement seems to be,
'Twill surely open and give Way to thee.
And while the crouding Lords address them near
Th' anointing Prelate, and the kneeling Peer;
While with obsequious Diligence they bow,
And spread the careful Honours o'er thy Brow;
While the high-rais'd Spectators shout around,
And the long Isles and vaulted Roofs resound:
Then snatch a sudden Thought, and turn thy Head
From the loud Living to the silent Dead:
With careful Eye the neighb'ring Tombs survey,
These will instruct thee better far than they:
From loud Applause your present Pow'r you see,
But these inform thee what thou'rt sure to be.
Think, that like thee, they fill'd the antique Chair,
And wore the very Vestments that you wear;
They wore the weighty Diadem like thee,
Like thee receiv'd the Kiss, and bended Knee;
Hear'd the same loud Applauses rend the Sky,
And lastly, think they dy'd, as you must dye.
Like Damocles you sit, a dangerous Show,
His Threatning hung above, your Warning calls below.
And swelling Robes sweep spreading o're the dead;
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Think then, O think! you walk on treach'rous Ground.
Tho' firm the checquer'd Pavement seems to be,
'Twill surely open and give Way to thee.
And while the crouding Lords address them near
Th' anointing Prelate, and the kneeling Peer;
While with obsequious Diligence they bow,
And spread the careful Honours o'er thy Brow;
While the high-rais'd Spectators shout around,
And the long Isles and vaulted Roofs resound:
Then snatch a sudden Thought, and turn thy Head
From the loud Living to the silent Dead:
With careful Eye the neighb'ring Tombs survey,
These will instruct thee better far than they:
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But these inform thee what thou'rt sure to be.
Think, that like thee, they fill'd the antique Chair,
And wore the very Vestments that you wear;
They wore the weighty Diadem like thee,
Like thee receiv'd the Kiss, and bended Knee;
Hear'd the same loud Applauses rend the Sky,
And lastly, think they dy'd, as you must dye.
Like Damocles you sit, a dangerous Show,
His Threatning hung above, your Warning calls below.
Muse search the Earth, the Sacred Ground explore!
What Monarchs rest beneath the marble Floor,
By Segibert's, and Harold's Ashes trace,
Of Saxon this, and that of Danish Race;
A People rough, who rul'd with Pirate sway.
And bend to Sainted Edward's Shrine thy way,
For pious Spleen and fancied Visions known,
And fitter for a Cell than for a Throne:
Who made Religion serve for each Pretence,
And pleaded Conscience for his Impotence;
While soft Editha sigh'd, a wedded Maid,
And wail'd the peaceful Partner of her Bed.
Yet where his Merit bid's Applauses bring,
And justly praise the visionary King;
Who earnestly espous'd Religion's cause,
And blest the State by well-establish'd Laws;
His life in quiet Contemplation spent,
Nor undeserv'dly claims the Name of Saint.
But all in vain is Piety to save,
The praying Votary meets th' expecting Grave.
What Monarchs rest beneath the marble Floor,
By Segibert's, and Harold's Ashes trace,
Of Saxon this, and that of Danish Race;
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And bend to Sainted Edward's Shrine thy way,
For pious Spleen and fancied Visions known,
And fitter for a Cell than for a Throne:
Who made Religion serve for each Pretence,
And pleaded Conscience for his Impotence;
While soft Editha sigh'd, a wedded Maid,
And wail'd the peaceful Partner of her Bed.
Yet where his Merit bid's Applauses bring,
And justly praise the visionary King;
Who earnestly espous'd Religion's cause,
And blest the State by well-establish'd Laws;
His life in quiet Contemplation spent,
Nor undeserv'dly claims the Name of Saint.
But all in vain is Piety to save,
The praying Votary meets th' expecting Grave.
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A grateful deference pay to
Henry's Tomb,
Whose royal Hands uprear'd the stately Dome;
The lofty Columns in long Order plac'd,
The shooting Spires with living Sculpture grac'd,
The Roof embow'd which tires the erected Eye,
And Towers fill'd with stately Imagery.
Whose royal Hands uprear'd the stately Dome;
The lofty Columns in long Order plac'd,
The shooting Spires with living Sculpture grac'd,
The Roof embow'd which tires the erected Eye,
And Towers fill'd with stately Imagery.
Not thus the Place in Albion's early Days;
For where thy Height the neighbouring Fields surveys,
A lonely Island near Augusta lay,
Where Thames in silver Currents winds his way;
Around the Isle he branch'd his circling Tyde,
The Margin kiss'd, and wash'd the rushy Side.
There stood a Fane with Groves conceal'd from Show,
Sacred to Cynthius with the silver Bow;
Where holding out his Lyre the Statue stood,
With Lawrel wreath'd of the far-shooting God;
The white rob'd Flamens waited all around,
Their snowy Locks with purple Fillets bound;
The Statue shakes while spicy Altars shine,
And doubtful Answers issue from the Shrine.
For where thy Height the neighbouring Fields surveys,
A lonely Island near Augusta lay,
Where Thames in silver Currents winds his way;
Around the Isle he branch'd his circling Tyde,
The Margin kiss'd, and wash'd the rushy Side.
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Sacred to Cynthius with the silver Bow;
Where holding out his Lyre the Statue stood,
With Lawrel wreath'd of the far-shooting God;
The white rob'd Flamens waited all around,
Their snowy Locks with purple Fillets bound;
The Statue shakes while spicy Altars shine,
And doubtful Answers issue from the Shrine.
But when pure heavenly Truths were spread abroad,
And Darkness fled with close demoniack Fraud,
The hellish Pow'rs recede in every Place,
Nor Flamens wait, nor Spicy Altar's Blaze:
The Pagan Chiefs fair Truth's approach admire,
Whilst Error and confus'd Deceit retire;
They found Success, on Christian Heroes wait,
And saw that to be Good, was to be Great;
Then infant Piety to Arts unknown,
Unskill'd in Fraud, and Innocence were one;
With sober Steps Religion took her Way,
And spread with humble Looks, her easy Sway:
With Eye attractive, heavenly Laws disclos'd,
Courted with friendly Speech, not forcively impos'd.
And Darkness fled with close demoniack Fraud,
The hellish Pow'rs recede in every Place,
Nor Flamens wait, nor Spicy Altar's Blaze:
The Pagan Chiefs fair Truth's approach admire,
Whilst Error and confus'd Deceit retire;
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And saw that to be Good, was to be Great;
Then infant Piety to Arts unknown,
Unskill'd in Fraud, and Innocence were one;
With sober Steps Religion took her Way,
And spread with humble Looks, her easy Sway:
With Eye attractive, heavenly Laws disclos'd,
Courted with friendly Speech, not forcively impos'd.
Her Priests an honest innofensive Race,
With Looks sincere, and undesigning Face;
Unweariedly, to serve their Mistress sought,
And ev'ry one believ'd the Truths he taught;
Nor influenc'd by Pow'r or Views of Sway,
Their Hopes in nothing but Reversions lay.
Strangers to Wealth, the self-denying Train,
Not Livings sought, but Proselites to gain;
Then Phœbus' Fane, and fraudful Rites no more,
Were seen, his hated Oracles were o're;
Thy sacred Building triumph'd in its Stead,
Swell'd with white Walls, and rear'd its rev'rend Head.
With Looks sincere, and undesigning Face;
Unweariedly, to serve their Mistress sought,
And ev'ry one believ'd the Truths he taught;
Nor influenc'd by Pow'r or Views of Sway,
Their Hopes in nothing but Reversions lay.
Strangers to Wealth, the self-denying Train,
Not Livings sought, but Proselites to gain;
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Were seen, his hated Oracles were o're;
Thy sacred Building triumph'd in its Stead,
Swell'd with white Walls, and rear'd its rev'rend Head.
But I desist to sing thy ancient State,
Thy various Structure, and thy Change of Fate;
How raging Danes inwrap'd thy Walls with Fire,
And impious Flames gleam'd horrid round the Quire;
Thy linnen'd Priests distain'd with crimson Gore,
And spread with Blood the slip'ry marble Floor;
Then Edward rais'd thee from the ruin'd Spoils,
Thy Columns rear'd, and stretch'd thy level Isles.
Thy various Structure, and thy Change of Fate;
How raging Danes inwrap'd thy Walls with Fire,
And impious Flames gleam'd horrid round the Quire;
Thy linnen'd Priests distain'd with crimson Gore,
And spread with Blood the slip'ry marble Floor;
Then Edward rais'd thee from the ruin'd Spoils,
Thy Columns rear'd, and stretch'd thy level Isles.
Thy sacred Pile in a late impious Age,
Felt the fresh Fury of a civil Rage;
When hellish Spite, licentious Wretches led,
T'assault th' anointed, and the miter'd Head,
When nothing sacred scap'd th' outragious Force,
Nor awful Temples stop'd their wastful Course;
Thy Roofs with Shouts resound, the hostile Bands,
Thy Altars broke with sacrilegious Hands;
Thy Prince's Tombs defac't with raging Spite,
And lay'd the venerable Scene to Light:
Then broken Trophies lay a savage Spoil,
And batter'd Monuments bestrew'd the Isle:
They burnt thy Ornaments, and fed the Flame,
With vocal Musick, and Cæcilia's Frame;
Thy Vestments spread the Shoulders of the Croud,
Us'd to the servile Whip and bending Load:
Thy rev'rend Priests were forc'd to quit the Place,
To hot brain'd Zealots, a destructive Race.
Religion then sunk down her decent Head,
And wild Disorder triumph'd in her Stead;
Till Heav'n with pitying Eye survey'd the Land,
Drew back his Arm, and stop'd his angry Hand:
Restor'd to just Command the royal Train,
And calm Religion re-assum'd its Reign.
Felt the fresh Fury of a civil Rage;
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T'assault th' anointed, and the miter'd Head,
When nothing sacred scap'd th' outragious Force,
Nor awful Temples stop'd their wastful Course;
Thy Roofs with Shouts resound, the hostile Bands,
Thy Altars broke with sacrilegious Hands;
Thy Prince's Tombs defac't with raging Spite,
And lay'd the venerable Scene to Light:
Then broken Trophies lay a savage Spoil,
And batter'd Monuments bestrew'd the Isle:
They burnt thy Ornaments, and fed the Flame,
With vocal Musick, and Cæcilia's Frame;
Thy Vestments spread the Shoulders of the Croud,
Us'd to the servile Whip and bending Load:
Thy rev'rend Priests were forc'd to quit the Place,
To hot brain'd Zealots, a destructive Race.
Religion then sunk down her decent Head,
And wild Disorder triumph'd in her Stead;
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Drew back his Arm, and stop'd his angry Hand:
Restor'd to just Command the royal Train,
And calm Religion re-assum'd its Reign.
To Harry still another Trophy raise,
A Cause as weighty calls for equal Praise;
He laid down Laws the Standards of his Reign,
And brought Astrea on the Earth again:
These to secure our brave Fore-Fathers stood,
Fenc'd with their Swords, and guarded with their Blood;
Show'd with undaunted Souls, and Courage brave,
An English-man disdains the Name of Slave:
Boldly they fought and back'd the glorious Cause,
To save their Liberty, and guard their Laws.
A Cause as weighty calls for equal Praise;
He laid down Laws the Standards of his Reign,
And brought Astrea on the Earth again:
These to secure our brave Fore-Fathers stood,
Fenc'd with their Swords, and guarded with their Blood;
Show'd with undaunted Souls, and Courage brave,
An English-man disdains the Name of Slave:
Boldly they fought and back'd the glorious Cause,
To save their Liberty, and guard their Laws.
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O sacred Liberty, of heavenly Birth!
Joy of Mankind, and Gladder of the Earth!
At thy Approach the Land begins to smile,
And chearful Plenty covers Albion's Isle:
Your Looks like Heav'n, a chearful Light display,
And Peace and Honour tend upon thy way:
By thee encourag'd, Peasants turn the Plain,
And yellow Harvests wave with golden Grain;
The barren Heath smiles new with sudden Grace,
And party-colour'd Meadows cloth the Place.
From careless sleep you rouse the idle Swain,
Pale meagre Slav'y flies thy glorious Reign;
You break her Iron Yoke, and snap her brazen Chain.
Where e'er you tread, where e'er you turn your Eyes,
Large Cities spread, and swelling Tow'rs arise;
The Trees descend from Mountains to the Plain,
And Britain's Navy launches to the Main.
Let India boast the Riches of her Shore,
Her beamy Diamond, and her shining Store;
Let rich Peru admire her wealthy Plains,
And Soil diversify'd with silver Veins:
Let Italy her antique Structures boast;
And France her fruitful Vines, and pleasing Coast;
Thy Sons exult in native Liberties,
These fire their Breasts, and sparkle in their Eyes.
Joy of Mankind, and Gladder of the Earth!
At thy Approach the Land begins to smile,
And chearful Plenty covers Albion's Isle:
Your Looks like Heav'n, a chearful Light display,
And Peace and Honour tend upon thy way:
By thee encourag'd, Peasants turn the Plain,
And yellow Harvests wave with golden Grain;
The barren Heath smiles new with sudden Grace,
And party-colour'd Meadows cloth the Place.
From careless sleep you rouse the idle Swain,
Pale meagre Slav'y flies thy glorious Reign;
You break her Iron Yoke, and snap her brazen Chain.
Where e'er you tread, where e'er you turn your Eyes,
Large Cities spread, and swelling Tow'rs arise;
The Trees descend from Mountains to the Plain,
And Britain's Navy launches to the Main.
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Her beamy Diamond, and her shining Store;
Let rich Peru admire her wealthy Plains,
And Soil diversify'd with silver Veins:
Let Italy her antique Structures boast;
And France her fruitful Vines, and pleasing Coast;
Thy Sons exult in native Liberties,
These fire their Breasts, and sparkle in their Eyes.
Ever rever'd be mighty
Edward's Name,
Distinguish'd in th' eternal Rolls of Fame;)
Who made the Camp in early Youth his Care,
Train'd up in Tents, and taught the Arts of War.
The Asian Plains and Pagan Annals tell
What Towns were levell'd, and what Armies fell,
When Syria trembled at the Trumpet's sound,
And impious Tenants fled the holy Ground;
The English Pards in waving Banners flew,
And the pale Cressents faded at the View.
He brought the Cambrians rough beneath his Rule,
And spread his Conquests to the utmost Thule:
Made the Decider of the Scotish State,
While two contending Princes held Debate:
At length subdu'd them to his sole Command,
And led his Conquests through th' affrighted Land:
The Pow'r united to the British Throne,
And brought the regal Ornaments from Scone:
But Tyrant Death with arbitrary sway,
Oppos'd his Conquests, and restain'd his Way;
And him, who thought a Kingdom narrow Room,
Confin'd to the close Limits of a Tomb;
Mingled with common Dust the Great, the Brave,
And Victory sat drooping o'er his Grave;
Her Glory's dim'd when they to shine begun,
And un-invok'd her Name by his degen'rate Son.
Distinguish'd in th' eternal Rolls of Fame;)
Who made the Camp in early Youth his Care,
Train'd up in Tents, and taught the Arts of War.
The Asian Plains and Pagan Annals tell
What Towns were levell'd, and what Armies fell,
34 [18
And impious Tenants fled the holy Ground;
The English Pards in waving Banners flew,
And the pale Cressents faded at the View.
He brought the Cambrians rough beneath his Rule,
And spread his Conquests to the utmost Thule:
Made the Decider of the Scotish State,
While two contending Princes held Debate:
At length subdu'd them to his sole Command,
And led his Conquests through th' affrighted Land:
The Pow'r united to the British Throne,
And brought the regal Ornaments from Scone:
But Tyrant Death with arbitrary sway,
Oppos'd his Conquests, and restain'd his Way;
35 [19]
Confin'd to the close Limits of a Tomb;
Mingled with common Dust the Great, the Brave,
And Victory sat drooping o'er his Grave;
Her Glory's dim'd when they to shine begun,
And un-invok'd her Name by his degen'rate Son.
Till the third Edward rose, a mighty Name,
Whose Dust, as next his Grandsires, next his Fame.
He wak'd the sleeping Genius of the Isle,
And mighty Conquests gain'd with mighty Toil
His Pow'r unbounded by his native Land,
To foreign Nations spread its wide Command:
Then Gallia trembling, heard the loud Alarms,
And sheath'd her Valiant Sons in fenceful Arms.
Whose Dust, as next his Grandsires, next his Fame.
He wak'd the sleeping Genius of the Isle,
And mighty Conquests gain'd with mighty Toil
36 [20]
To foreign Nations spread its wide Command:
Then Gallia trembling, heard the loud Alarms,
And sheath'd her Valiant Sons in fenceful Arms.
Muse, sing the Actions of the Warriour Train,
And sketch a Draught of Cressy's dusty Plain;
Let two bold Nations stand in fierce Array,
And Gauls and Britains try superior Sway.
And sketch a Draught of Cressy's dusty Plain;
Let two bold Nations stand in fierce Array,
And Gauls and Britains try superior Sway.
Draw mighty Edward, as he conq'ring stood,
The Lillies on his Shield stain'd red with Gallick Blood.
Near him illustrious Gaunt, a mighty Name,
Manny and Chandois, Chiefs of deathless Fame,
While Heaps of Bodies strew'd the bloody Plain,
And Death's black List was crowded with the slain:
On his pale Steed between the Ranks he rode,
And tho' insatiate seern'd as cloy'd with Blood:
The Fates were all employ'd in cutting Thread,
And trembling Gallia sunk her fainting Head.
The Lillies on his Shield stain'd red with Gallick Blood.
Near him illustrious Gaunt, a mighty Name,
Manny and Chandois, Chiefs of deathless Fame,
37 [21]
And Death's black List was crowded with the slain:
On his pale Steed between the Ranks he rode,
And tho' insatiate seern'd as cloy'd with Blood:
The Fates were all employ'd in cutting Thread,
And trembling Gallia sunk her fainting Head.
A Conquest gain'd, and hostile Terrors done
Next draw the Monarch peaceful on his Throne;
Place Liberty and Right on either Hand,
While round his Throne his grave Advisers stand,
Let Plenty from her Lap her Blessings strow,
And pleasing Peace extend her Olive Bough:
At lovely Windsor lay the stately Scene;
Proud in white Walls, and a surrounding Green,
Show his Companion warriour Knights around,
Their just Deserts with lasting Honour crown'd:
Draw the blue Cincture round the Hero's Thigh,
While Acclamations rend the vaulted Sky;
While Crowds their Joys express in Shouts around
And ecchoing Towr's and hollow Domes resound.
Next draw the Monarch peaceful on his Throne;
Place Liberty and Right on either Hand,
While round his Throne his grave Advisers stand,
Let Plenty from her Lap her Blessings strow,
And pleasing Peace extend her Olive Bough:
At lovely Windsor lay the stately Scene;
Proud in white Walls, and a surrounding Green,
Show his Companion warriour Knights around,
Their just Deserts with lasting Honour crown'd:
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While Acclamations rend the vaulted Sky;
While Crowds their Joys express in Shouts around
And ecchoing Towr's and hollow Domes resound.
Thus having view'd the Monarch and his Train,
And all th' unnumber'd Wonders of his Reign;
Say, what can influence such a glorious State?
And is not so much Pow'r exempt from Fate?
No, Tyrant Death, impartially severe,
At the Gold Verge directs th' unerring Spear;
Stalks thro' the Marble Court with heedless Stride,
And strips the Ornaments from Regal Pride.
And all th' unnumber'd Wonders of his Reign;
Say, what can influence such a glorious State?
And is not so much Pow'r exempt from Fate?
No, Tyrant Death, impartially severe,
At the Gold Verge directs th' unerring Spear;
Stalks thro' the Marble Court with heedless Stride,
And strips the Ornaments from Regal Pride.
39 [23]
Now show th' unmask'd Delusion if you can,
And as the Monarch dies, describe the Man.
His fading Eyes no darting Terrors wear,
His dewy Fore-head pale, no more severe;
Nor from his Lips observ'd Directions flow,
But faultring Pray'rs, and inward plaints of Woe:
Struggling in dying Agonies he lies,
And sees his Friends draw off with swimming Eyes:
His fawning Train to the next Monarch fled,
All who but wait for Spoil, and long to strip the Dead.
And as the Monarch dies, describe the Man.
His fading Eyes no darting Terrors wear,
His dewy Fore-head pale, no more severe;
Nor from his Lips observ'd Directions flow,
But faultring Pray'rs, and inward plaints of Woe:
Struggling in dying Agonies he lies,
And sees his Friends draw off with swimming Eyes:
His fawning Train to the next Monarch fled,
All who but wait for Spoil, and long to strip the Dead.
Ye Gilded Sons of Pow'r, this Verse attend,
Mark Edward's Fate, and learn to know your End.
Mark Edward's Fate, and learn to know your End.
40 [24]
To hapless
Richard's Tomb direct thy Eye,
And view the Earth where his fair Ruins lie:
Illustrious born, victorious Edward's Son;
Heir to his Grandsire's Conquests and his Thone,
With blooming Youth adorn'd and heav'nly Grace,
And all his Mother sparkled in his Face;
A Form for Grief design'd, a goodly Show,
Fram'd as a most illustrious Piece of Woe:
By Nature plac'd in that exalted State,
To prove that nor the Beauteous, nor the Great
Nor Form, nor Pow'r, are Wards secure from Fate.
Safe in the Earth the bleeding Monarch lies,
Nor rebel Subjects vex, nor kindred Foes surprize;
The Ruler in his peaceful Grave alone,
Who finds a Tomb much safer than a Throne;
His Silence none invades with wild Uproar,
Nor breaks the marble Barriers of the Door.
And view the Earth where his fair Ruins lie:
Illustrious born, victorious Edward's Son;
Heir to his Grandsire's Conquests and his Thone,
With blooming Youth adorn'd and heav'nly Grace,
And all his Mother sparkled in his Face;
A Form for Grief design'd, a goodly Show,
Fram'd as a most illustrious Piece of Woe:
By Nature plac'd in that exalted State,
To prove that nor the Beauteous, nor the Great
Nor Form, nor Pow'r, are Wards secure from Fate.
Safe in the Earth the bleeding Monarch lies,
Nor rebel Subjects vex, nor kindred Foes surprize;
25
Who finds a Tomb much safer than a Throne;
His Silence none invades with wild Uproar,
Nor breaks the marble Barriers of the Door.
Do, haughty Harry,
urge imperious Sway,
Explore thy Master's Breast to find to Pow'r the Way;
On his fair Ruins plant thy bloody Feet,
And tread on the pale Corpse to mount his Seat;
With eager Haste crowd in th' unvacant Throne,
And bind thy Brows with Honours not thy own:
Nor stretch the Scepter'd Power of just Command,
But gripe the reeking Sword with bloody Hand.
Yet know, ambitious Man, too vainly Great
You court fallacious Good, a toilsome State,
And purchase Trouble with a Price too great.
More happy Richard, in a timely Hour,
Divested of the cumb'rous Robes of Pow'r,
Not shuffl's thro' a short precarious Reign;
Nor toils, a doubtful Title to mantain;
Nor stands in Armour dang'rous on the Throne;
Nor wears the Helmet underneath the Crown:
Nor makes, by frequent Deaths, his Title good;
Nor writes his Annals with his Nobles Blood:
No Son of his shall rule a short-liv'd State,
Nor Race shall share thy bleeding Grandson's Fate.
Explore thy Master's Breast to find to Pow'r the Way;
On his fair Ruins plant thy bloody Feet,
And tread on the pale Corpse to mount his Seat;
With eager Haste crowd in th' unvacant Throne,
And bind thy Brows with Honours not thy own:
Nor stretch the Scepter'd Power of just Command,
But gripe the reeking Sword with bloody Hand.
26
You court fallacious Good, a toilsome State,
And purchase Trouble with a Price too great.
More happy Richard, in a timely Hour,
Divested of the cumb'rous Robes of Pow'r,
Not shuffl's thro' a short precarious Reign;
Nor toils, a doubtful Title to mantain;
Nor stands in Armour dang'rous on the Throne;
Nor wears the Helmet underneath the Crown:
Nor makes, by frequent Deaths, his Title good;
Nor writes his Annals with his Nobles Blood:
No Son of his shall rule a short-liv'd State,
Nor Race shall share thy bleeding Grandson's Fate.
27
Let then th' Usurper boast the hated Fame,
Mention'd no more at the fifth Henry's Name.
Let ravish'd Banners load the ancient Tomb,
And ratling Trophies crowd the Sacred Room,
Ye God-like Relicks! Peace and Quiet share;
Nor hear again the well-known Voice of War.
Mention'd no more at the fifth Henry's Name.
Let ravish'd Banners load the ancient Tomb,
And ratling Trophies crowd the Sacred Room,
Ye God-like Relicks! Peace and Quiet share;
Nor hear again the well-known Voice of War.
Muse, pass the other crowding Princes o'er,
And Royal Dust dispers'd beneath the Floor;
Where fam'd Plantagenets fill'd up the Place,
Nor left a Tomb for a succeeding Race,
Till Richmond most auspicious Name arose,
Who bound in one each fair contending Rose;
Who bad the loud contending Parties cease,
And furl their long-wav'd Banners up in Peace.
He with new Glories did the Structure grace,
And stretch'd the Limits of the Sacred Place;
Rear'd up the Beauties of the Eastern Dome,
And finish'd Wonders for the Age to come:
Where Gothick Tow'rs, irregular, deride
The juster Order of Corinthian Pride;
Where the nice Statuary's Skill is shown
In living Sculpture, and the figur'd Stone,
With vast expensive Pride adorn'd the Place,
Fit to contain the Ashes of his Race.
Himself the first Possessor of the Dome,
Greatly Interr'd, and Glorious in a Tomb,
Where gilded Brass attracts with stately show,
The Thoughts from a more loathsome View below.
For could the Eye but pierce the dark Recess,
And see what Forms the brazen Statues press;
View how the mouldring putrid Relicks lay,
Like common Dust, and undistinguish'd Clay,
Our Minds would deeply fix on Sights, like these,
Nor all the outward pompous show would please.
And Royal Dust dispers'd beneath the Floor;
Where fam'd Plantagenets fill'd up the Place,
Nor left a Tomb for a succeeding Race,
Till Richmond most auspicious Name arose,
Who bound in one each fair contending Rose;
Who bad the loud contending Parties cease,
And furl their long-wav'd Banners up in Peace.
28
And stretch'd the Limits of the Sacred Place;
Rear'd up the Beauties of the Eastern Dome,
And finish'd Wonders for the Age to come:
Where Gothick Tow'rs, irregular, deride
The juster Order of Corinthian Pride;
Where the nice Statuary's Skill is shown
In living Sculpture, and the figur'd Stone,
With vast expensive Pride adorn'd the Place,
Fit to contain the Ashes of his Race.
Himself the first Possessor of the Dome,
Greatly Interr'd, and Glorious in a Tomb,
Where gilded Brass attracts with stately show,
The Thoughts from a more loathsome View below.
For could the Eye but pierce the dark Recess,
And see what Forms the brazen Statues press;
29
Like common Dust, and undistinguish'd Clay,
Our Minds would deeply fix on Sights, like these,
Nor all the outward pompous show would please.
Thus mighty Cæsar, when with boundless Sway
He led to lofty Memphian Towr's his way,
Curious to have the bury'd Relicks shown,
And sleeping Form of Ammon's fabl'd Son,
Descends the Marble Vault, and darkling spies
By a dim Lamp, where the great Conq'rer lies;
But now no more by God-like Features known,
No Marks of what Lysippus fram'd in Stone;
But the moist Carkass nest's a hateful Brood,
The hissing Serpent, and the panting Toad:
He turn'd away his Head with sudden Fright,
Andstretch'd his Hand against th' offensive Sight:
Then from his heaving Bosom fetch'd a Groan,
To think that State must one Day be his own.
He led to lofty Memphian Towr's his way,
Curious to have the bury'd Relicks shown,
And sleeping Form of Ammon's fabl'd Son,
Descends the Marble Vault, and darkling spies
By a dim Lamp, where the great Conq'rer lies;
But now no more by God-like Features known,
No Marks of what Lysippus fram'd in Stone;
But the moist Carkass nest's a hateful Brood,
The hissing Serpent, and the panting Toad:
30
Andstretch'd his Hand against th' offensive Sight:
Then from his heaving Bosom fetch'd a Groan,
To think that State must one Day be his own.
May no rude Hand the awful Place molest,
Where great Eliza's sacred Ashes rest:
May Praise eternal wait upon her Shade,
And future Ages hail the glorious Maid:
Whose pow'rful Council gave to Europe Law,
And kept encroaching Tyrant Pow'r in Awe.
Whose Rule unshaken, sway'd the wav'ring State,
Nor own'd superior Pow'r but that of Fate:
To its Decrees a glad Submission gave,
And with her Sister, shares one common Grave:
Suspicion's ceas'd, and jarring Discord's o'er,
Peaceful they rest in Death, and Jealous now no more.
Where great Eliza's sacred Ashes rest:
May Praise eternal wait upon her Shade,
And future Ages hail the glorious Maid:
Whose pow'rful Council gave to Europe Law,
And kept encroaching Tyrant Pow'r in Awe.
Whose Rule unshaken, sway'd the wav'ring State,
Nor own'd superior Pow'r but that of Fate:
To its Decrees a glad Submission gave,
And with her Sister, shares one common Grave:
31
Peaceful they rest in Death, and Jealous now no more.
A near adjoyning Structure strikes my Eye
With the same glorious Form and Imag'ry,
Where Scotland's bleeding Queen in quiet sleeps,
While o'er her Grave the Marble Statue weeps.
Unhappy Mary, Heav'n reserv'd for thee
A World of Grief, a most severe Decree.
Not all the Glories of thy royal Race,
Nor all th' unequal'd Beauties of thy Face;
Not thy extended Pow'r and lengthen'd State,
Could ward thee from the rudest Stokes of Fate;
By Rebel Subjects ev'ry where pursu'd,
Whose Hands were in thy Husband's Blood imbru'd.
Depriv'd of Government, and wide Command,
You fled to our unhospitable Land.
Where not thy Kindred-Blood, nor Reign distrest,
Could move Concern in great Eliza's Breast.
Justice and Right are counted trivial things,
And Ties of Blood are empty Pleas with Kings.
In seeking royal Privilege undone,
You found that Ruin, which you strove to shun:
Thee Chatsworth Walls a length of Years detain
Midst Derby's craggy Hills and barren Plain;
Till great Eliza's Reign by Age decay'd,
And Honour's tend on the great Captive's Head.
Thy Hand is stretch'd the scepter'd Pow'r to hold,
And thy fair Fore-head waits the circling Gold;
But thy stretch'd Hand no scepter'd Pow'r shall bear,
Nor circling Gold shall bind thy Fore-head fair;
Nor shalt thou at Eliza's Funeral moan,
Nor fill the regal Chair, nor mount the Throne:
For thee's reserv'd a darker Share of Fate,
A pageantry of Death, instead of State:
Thy publick Scene is laid another way;
Not in great Rufus' Hall, but Foth'ringhay:
There stands no Throne to mount with awful Grace,
But the hung Scaffold blackens all the Place.
There not by fawning Peers, or Lords addrest,
But th' Executioner, and solemn Priest.
Thy sacred Knees in grov'ling Posture spread,
Thy lovely Neck unveil'd, th' anointed Head
Muffl'd to wait the executing Blow,
Then to the Crowd expos'd a publick Show.
Thy palc Majectick Face with Blood distain'd,
Held up in scorn by a mean Wretch's Hand.
What in thy Rival could such anger move,
That Pallas thus should usethe Queen of Love?
Such was, unhappy Queen, thy rigid Fate,
To fall a Victim to the Turns of State,
And publick Good, a most fallacious View,
Which few o'ertake, tho' seeming, all pursue.
With the same glorious Form and Imag'ry,
Where Scotland's bleeding Queen in quiet sleeps,
While o'er her Grave the Marble Statue weeps.
Unhappy Mary, Heav'n reserv'd for thee
A World of Grief, a most severe Decree.
Not all the Glories of thy royal Race,
Nor all th' unequal'd Beauties of thy Face;
Not thy extended Pow'r and lengthen'd State,
Could ward thee from the rudest Stokes of Fate;
By Rebel Subjects ev'ry where pursu'd,
Whose Hands were in thy Husband's Blood imbru'd.
32
You fled to our unhospitable Land.
Where not thy Kindred-Blood, nor Reign distrest,
Could move Concern in great Eliza's Breast.
Justice and Right are counted trivial things,
And Ties of Blood are empty Pleas with Kings.
In seeking royal Privilege undone,
You found that Ruin, which you strove to shun:
Thee Chatsworth Walls a length of Years detain
Midst Derby's craggy Hills and barren Plain;
Till great Eliza's Reign by Age decay'd,
And Honour's tend on the great Captive's Head.
Thy Hand is stretch'd the scepter'd Pow'r to hold,
And thy fair Fore-head waits the circling Gold;
33
Nor circling Gold shall bind thy Fore-head fair;
Nor shalt thou at Eliza's Funeral moan,
Nor fill the regal Chair, nor mount the Throne:
For thee's reserv'd a darker Share of Fate,
A pageantry of Death, instead of State:
Thy publick Scene is laid another way;
Not in great Rufus' Hall, but Foth'ringhay:
There stands no Throne to mount with awful Grace,
But the hung Scaffold blackens all the Place.
There not by fawning Peers, or Lords addrest,
But th' Executioner, and solemn Priest.
Thy sacred Knees in grov'ling Posture spread,
Thy lovely Neck unveil'd, th' anointed Head
34
Then to the Crowd expos'd a publick Show.
Thy palc Majectick Face with Blood distain'd,
Held up in scorn by a mean Wretch's Hand.
What in thy Rival could such anger move,
That Pallas thus should usethe Queen of Love?
Such was, unhappy Queen, thy rigid Fate,
To fall a Victim to the Turns of State,
And publick Good, a most fallacious View,
Which few o'ertake, tho' seeming, all pursue.
Proceeding on the royal Dust to trace,
And mark the Ashes of the Stuart's Race.
The Muse with a forbidding Air drew near,
She check'd my Hand, and whisper'd in my Ear;
Forbear, advent'rous Youth, a Task so great,
Nor sing the various doubtful Turns of State:
Desist to venture on the Regal Train,
Down from Pacifick James to Pious Ann;
Remit the Task to Bards of happier Time,
When well-told Truth shall cease to be a Crime
And mark the Ashes of the Stuart's Race.
The Muse with a forbidding Air drew near,
She check'd my Hand, and whisper'd in my Ear;
Forbear, advent'rous Youth, a Task so great,
Nor sing the various doubtful Turns of State:
35
Down from Pacifick James to Pious Ann;
Remit the Task to Bards of happier Time,
When well-told Truth shall cease to be a Crime
So spake the Muse, and bowing I obey'd
The just Direction of the Aonian Maid,
Leaving the Royal Catacombs, retreat,
Nor dwell on mention of each buried Great.
By Sandwich, famous in the watry Chace,
And Monk, Restorer of the Royal Race,
I pass, when sudden, Staggering grew my Feet,
And my Heart glow'd with more than common Heat;
With rev'rence on the Floor I fix'd my Eyes,
Where Addison near Great Eliza' lies;
While o'er his Dust the Muse triumphing sings,
Proud that her Fav'rite Son is mingled with her Kings;
Exults herself in such a heav'nly Guest,
And boasts his Ashes more than all the rest:
Dust, which will mark preserve the marble Floor,
When Henry's brazen Tomb shall be no more.
The Poet's Name can strike a Pale a-round,
And where he rests, he consecrates the Ground;
Can from rude Hands the sculptur'd Marble save,
And spread a sacred Influence round the Grave.
Thus Virgil's Tomb attracts the Trav'ler's Eyes,
While none can tell where great Augustus lies.
The just Direction of the Aonian Maid,
Leaving the Royal Catacombs, retreat,
Nor dwell on mention of each buried Great.
By Sandwich, famous in the watry Chace,
And Monk, Restorer of the Royal Race,
I pass, when sudden, Staggering grew my Feet,
And my Heart glow'd with more than common Heat;
With rev'rence on the Floor I fix'd my Eyes,
Where Addison near Great Eliza' lies;
While o'er his Dust the Muse triumphing sings,
Proud that her Fav'rite Son is mingled with her Kings;
36
And boasts his Ashes more than all the rest:
Dust, which will mark preserve the marble Floor,
When Henry's brazen Tomb shall be no more.
The Poet's Name can strike a Pale a-round,
And where he rests, he consecrates the Ground;
Can from rude Hands the sculptur'd Marble save,
And spread a sacred Influence round the Grave.
Thus Virgil's Tomb attracts the Trav'ler's Eyes,
While none can tell where great Augustus lies.
Descending henee from the illustrious Dome,
Lost in a Maze, by diff'rent ways I roam,
Thro' hallow'd Mansions I my Course pursue,
And high-rais'd Fun'ral Pride, with Wonder view.
Lost in a Maze, by diff'rent ways I roam,
Thro' hallow'd Mansions I my Course pursue,
And high-rais'd Fun'ral Pride, with Wonder view.
37
Muse, sing what Sepulchres our Fathers chose!
And how the monumental Structures rose;
How by degrees their diff'rent Frames were shown,
And the keen Chisel first inform'd the Stone.
And how the monumental Structures rose;
How by degrees their diff'rent Frames were shown,
And the keen Chisel first inform'd the Stone.
The
Britons rough, a People us'd to War,
Fields their Employment, and the Camp their Care;
Always in arms to save their Native Land,
And guard their Lives from each invading Hand:
A People Free, unknowing how to yield,
Met Death with Courage in the dusty Field;
Unshock'd with Roman Arms, a glit'ring show,
By Cæsar found no inconsid'rate Foe;
Daring the Death, fell each Heroick Brave,
And gasping press'd the Earth he stood to save.
His Brother Chiefs the godlike Corps survey'd,
And pay'd a grateful Honour to his Shade;
Rough as himself they rear a lasting Tomb,
A great Example for the Race to come.
His share of Earth each grateful Warriour lent,
And rear'd a Mountain for a Monument;
Which Force nor eating Age can e'er decay,
Ev'n Ninus Tombs shall sooner fall than they.
Spread thro' our Plains the rising Hills are seen,
Unshock'd with Storms, and cloth'd with native Green;
On which the Shepherd takes his Mid-day Dreams,
Fames'em for Fairy Mounts, and gives them uncouth Names.
Fields their Employment, and the Camp their Care;
Always in arms to save their Native Land,
And guard their Lives from each invading Hand:
A People Free, unknowing how to yield,
Met Death with Courage in the dusty Field;
Unshock'd with Roman Arms, a glit'ring show,
By Cæsar found no inconsid'rate Foe;
Daring the Death, fell each Heroick Brave,
And gasping press'd the Earth he stood to save.
38
And pay'd a grateful Honour to his Shade;
Rough as himself they rear a lasting Tomb,
A great Example for the Race to come.
His share of Earth each grateful Warriour lent,
And rear'd a Mountain for a Monument;
Which Force nor eating Age can e'er decay,
Ev'n Ninus Tombs shall sooner fall than they.
Spread thro' our Plains the rising Hills are seen,
Unshock'd with Storms, and cloth'd with native Green;
On which the Shepherd takes his Mid-day Dreams,
Fames'em for Fairy Mounts, and gives them uncouth Names.
39
But when the Saxons rough enslav'd the Place,
And Pirate Danes, the worst of Gothick Race,
As either strugled for superior Sway,
And Albion's Plains became the common Prey:
They made the Grave of each great Robber known,
By rais'd up Rocks, and rough unpolish'd Stone.
And Pirate Danes, the worst of Gothick Race,
As either strugled for superior Sway,
And Albion's Plains became the common Prey:
They made the Grave of each great Robber known,
By rais'd up Rocks, and rough unpolish'd Stone.
The Christian Chiefs in decent manner rest,
In the hewn Coffin, and the hollow Chest;
But no vile Epitaph bely'd the Dead,
For with the Corps they inclos'd the letter'd Lead.
Such Arthur thine near fair Glassonia found,
The Druid's Song directing to the Gronnd.
In the hewn Coffin, and the hollow Chest;
But no vile Epitaph bely'd the Dead,
For with the Corps they inclos'd the letter'd Lead.
40
The Druid's Song directing to the Gronnd.
The
Normans first of
Oak-enduring gave,
The imitative Warriour o'er the Grave,
Whose uncouth Images till now are shown,
Scorning the Aid of less enduring Stone.
With Legs a-cross the Warriour Statues lay,
Like Valence in enamel'd Surcoat gay.
Next with grey Marble fram'd the Fun'ral Bed,
And kneeling Angels prop'd the muffl'd Head;
And wanting neat and just Designs, provide,
Arches and Spires, and Loads of Gothick Pride:
While round the Verge provencal Gibberish chimes
With jingling latin Verse, and barb'rous monkish Rhimes.
Upon their Backs the ancient Statues lie,
Devoutly fix'd with Hands uplifted high,
Intreating Pray'rs of all the Passers by.
At length they chang'd the Posture by degrees,
And plac'd the Marble Vot'ry on its Knees:
Then Warriours rough devoutly Heav'n adore,
And States-men kneel who never knelt before:
Then Ornaments superfluous were known,
To spoil the native Beauty of the Stone
The rich-vein'd Porph'ry we, surpriz'd, behold,
Vermilion painted and inlay'd with Gold:
Where long Inscriptions at such Distance lie,
Not to be read by the inspecting Eye.
Next a less pious Posture they provide,
On Cushions lolling, stretch'd with careless Pride.
With wringing Hands the little Cherubs moan,
And Fun'ral Lamps, which seem to blaze in Stone,
And marble Urns with juster Beauty stand,
And rich Relievo shews the Master's Hand;
Or the neat Altar with a Busto grac'd,
In Roman Pride, like that which Sheffeld plac'd:
The imitative Warriour o'er the Grave,
Whose uncouth Images till now are shown,
Scorning the Aid of less enduring Stone.
With Legs a-cross the Warriour Statues lay,
Like Valence in enamel'd Surcoat gay.
41
And kneeling Angels prop'd the muffl'd Head;
And wanting neat and just Designs, provide,
Arches and Spires, and Loads of Gothick Pride:
While round the Verge provencal Gibberish chimes
With jingling latin Verse, and barb'rous monkish Rhimes.
Upon their Backs the ancient Statues lie,
Devoutly fix'd with Hands uplifted high,
Intreating Pray'rs of all the Passers by.
At length they chang'd the Posture by degrees,
And plac'd the Marble Vot'ry on its Knees:
Then Warriours rough devoutly Heav'n adore,
And States-men kneel who never knelt before:
Then Ornaments superfluous were known,
To spoil the native Beauty of the Stone
The rich-vein'd Porph'ry we, surpriz'd, behold,
Vermilion painted and inlay'd with Gold:
42
Not to be read by the inspecting Eye.
Next a less pious Posture they provide,
On Cushions lolling, stretch'd with careless Pride.
With wringing Hands the little Cherubs moan,
And Fun'ral Lamps, which seem to blaze in Stone,
And marble Urns with juster Beauty stand,
And rich Relievo shews the Master's Hand;
Or the neat Altar with a Busto grac'd,
In Roman Pride, like that which Sheffeld plac'd:
See where the artful Politician lies,
The once so pow'rful, eloquent and wise:
Then hail'd with Shouts and Acclamations loud,
Thro' publick Ways the Idol of the Crowd
Soon to his Levee buzzing Courtiers run,
And wait his issuing forth, as Peasants wait the Sun.
But all their toilsome hurry being o'er,
Unnam'd they rest, remember'd now no more.
Succeeding Peers supply their pompous Room,
The Summer's Sun surveys their silent Tomb,
Just nam'd to rude Spectators as they pass,
And the Wand bounds upon the sounding Brass;
Not all their wardful skill to save the State,
Could guard them selves from the rude Strokes of Fate,
Nor Forecast, nor Persuasion could prolong
Their Days; the studious Head and artful Tongue.
Pleads all in vain, for Silence must prevail,
And Harcourt's Eloquence at length must fail.
The once so pow'rful, eloquent and wise:
Then hail'd with Shouts and Acclamations loud,
Thro' publick Ways the Idol of the Crowd
Soon to his Levee buzzing Courtiers run,
And wait his issuing forth, as Peasants wait the Sun.
43
Unnam'd they rest, remember'd now no more.
Succeeding Peers supply their pompous Room,
The Summer's Sun surveys their silent Tomb,
Just nam'd to rude Spectators as they pass,
And the Wand bounds upon the sounding Brass;
Not all their wardful skill to save the State,
Could guard them selves from the rude Strokes of Fate,
Nor Forecast, nor Persuasion could prolong
Their Days; the studious Head and artful Tongue.
Pleads all in vain, for Silence must prevail,
And Harcourt's Eloquence at length must fail.
With these co-mix'd in the oblivious State,
I view the nobly born, the Rich and Great;
The once elated Look and haughty Brow,
But ah how alter'd and dejected now!
Muse, show a Scene of the unthinking Great,
His former Grandeur and his present State.
I view the nobly born, the Rich and Great;
The once elated Look and haughty Brow,
But ah how alter'd and dejected now!
44
His former Grandeur and his present State.
His lofty Domes and marble Turrets rise,
And shooting Spires coequal with the Skies;
Around his pleasing Parks I seem to rove,
Thro' shady Vista's and the gloomy Grove;
Or in his stretch'd out Gardens, where is seen,
The sloaping Terras, and ascending Green:
Where Phœbus and the Thunder-bearing God
Are plac'd, and Hermes holds his snaky Rod;
Where marble Naids fill the watry Seat,
And cooling Grotto's ward from Summer's Heat;
While crowds of Servants round the Idol stand,
And wait officiously for each Command.
I hear soft Musick on the Ev'ning Glade,
And Flutes melodious animate the Shade,
Whilst Woodbine and the fragrant Jasmine share
Their vernal Odours to the wanton Air;
While the soft downy Minutes pass along,
Fill'd with the well-told Tale and lively Song,
While at full Marble Tables strow'd profuse,
Th'Indulge the Tast and quaff the fragrant Juice
Pale meager Sickness enters un-observ'd,
And hands each dang'rous Dainty that is Carv'd,
O'er ev'ry Dish breaths its infectious Soul,
And dips its deadly Lips in ev'ry Bowl.
Can all his Care exclude the hated Pow'r,
Or fright the meager Enterer from his Door;
Who scorns the Cot, but seeks the stately Seat,
And treads the Marble Floor with stagg'ring Feet.
And shooting Spires coequal with the Skies;
Around his pleasing Parks I seem to rove,
Thro' shady Vista's and the gloomy Grove;
Or in his stretch'd out Gardens, where is seen,
The sloaping Terras, and ascending Green:
Where Phœbus and the Thunder-bearing God
Are plac'd, and Hermes holds his snaky Rod;
Where marble Naids fill the watry Seat,
And cooling Grotto's ward from Summer's Heat;
While crowds of Servants round the Idol stand,
And wait officiously for each Command.
I hear soft Musick on the Ev'ning Glade,
And Flutes melodious animate the Shade,
Whilst Woodbine and the fragrant Jasmine share
Their vernal Odours to the wanton Air;
45
Fill'd with the well-told Tale and lively Song,
While at full Marble Tables strow'd profuse,
Th'Indulge the Tast and quaff the fragrant Juice
Pale meager Sickness enters un-observ'd,
And hands each dang'rous Dainty that is Carv'd,
O'er ev'ry Dish breaths its infectious Soul,
And dips its deadly Lips in ev'ry Bowl.
Can all his Care exclude the hated Pow'r,
Or fright the meager Enterer from his Door;
Who scorns the Cot, but seeks the stately Seat,
And treads the Marble Floor with stagg'ring Feet.
At midnight hour with fev'rish Heat dismay'd
He sends in haste, and asks the Leech's Aid;
He comes, applies himself beside the Bed,
Then leaves the Chamber with a shaking Head;
As Custom bids, prescribes to ease his Pain,
And orders Med'cines which he knows are vain.
Will nothing do? Can Wealth nor Riches save
Me, trembling, from the greedy dark some Grave?
Will not my large Possessions lengthen Breath?
And has not Wealth the Pow'r of bribing Death?
He cries; and looks with wild distracted Eye,
His Friends sit round and answer with a Sigh.
In Agonies reluctant he expires,
Short Grief succeeds as Decency requires.
He sends in haste, and asks the Leech's Aid;
He comes, applies himself beside the Bed,
Then leaves the Chamber with a shaking Head;
As Custom bids, prescribes to ease his Pain,
And orders Med'cines which he knows are vain.
46
Me, trembling, from the greedy dark some Grave?
Will not my large Possessions lengthen Breath?
And has not Wealth the Pow'r of bribing Death?
He cries; and looks with wild distracted Eye,
His Friends sit round and answer with a Sigh.
In Agonies reluctant he expires,
Short Grief succeeds as Decency requires.
This done, they strip the breathless Carcass bare,
And let in all th' inclemencies of Air:
Thus dispossess'd of all you once could name,
You boast a level of the meanest Claim.
Of all thy Acres ev'ry one's deny'd,
Only the Earth your narrow Corps can hide:
For thy once boasted Seat and sumptuous Dome,
The dark damp Vault and lonely hollow Tomb,
Of all the costly Changes of Attire,
Which grac'd thy Pride, and made the world admire.
No other Cov'ring now must be allow'd,
But the pale Winding-sheet and wollen Shrowd
Strait to thy Arm, and ruffl'd at the Hand,
The Chap-fal'n Muffler and the Fore-head Band;
Of all thy Wealth thy Death affords no more
Than Doles distributed among the Poor;
Nor Timber of the Woods you once possest,
Except the Elm that frames thy uncouth Chest.
And let in all th' inclemencies of Air:
Thus dispossess'd of all you once could name,
You boast a level of the meanest Claim.
Of all thy Acres ev'ry one's deny'd,
Only the Earth your narrow Corps can hide:
For thy once boasted Seat and sumptuous Dome,
The dark damp Vault and lonely hollow Tomb,
47
Which grac'd thy Pride, and made the world admire.
No other Cov'ring now must be allow'd,
But the pale Winding-sheet and wollen Shrowd
Strait to thy Arm, and ruffl'd at the Hand,
The Chap-fal'n Muffler and the Fore-head Band;
Of all thy Wealth thy Death affords no more
Than Doles distributed among the Poor;
Nor Timber of the Woods you once possest,
Except the Elm that frames thy uncouth Chest.
The Heir proceeds the Fun'ral Rites to grace,
And bear him to the Ashes of his Race.
The Pageantry of Death proceeds on slow,
And gazing Numbers throng to view the Show,
While the pale guilty Shade no Rest allow'd,
But doom'd to wander, mixes with the Crow'd.
Hovers about th' inactive Form to meet,
And fain would enter its forbidden Seat;
Wonders to see the pompous Rites they pay,
To its old Friend and once familiar Clay:
He shudders as his well-known Friends appear,
And sees his Son with artificial Tear.
And bear him to the Ashes of his Race.
The Pageantry of Death proceeds on slow,
And gazing Numbers throng to view the Show,
While the pale guilty Shade no Rest allow'd,
But doom'd to wander, mixes with the Crow'd.
48
And fain would enter its forbidden Seat;
Wonders to see the pompous Rites they pay,
To its old Friend and once familiar Clay:
He shudders as his well-known Friends appear,
And sees his Son with artificial Tear.
Far diff'rent he who justly understood
Sacred important Truths and humane Good;
Who studious sought to make the surest Claim,
And see that Heav'n from whence his Virtue came.
Whose Soul extensive Charity possest,
And gen'rous Bounty always sway'd his Breast.
Who never sought malicious Lies to raise,
But silent Pitied what he could not Praise.
Whose Heart and Tongue in strict Alliance join'd,
Nor promis'd Favours which he ne'er design'd.
Who sought Occasions how to Aid the Poor,
And call'd the fainting Trav'ler to his Door:
Whose Heart was mov'd at the afflicted Sigh,
Th' extended Hand, and piteous lifted Eye:
Nor fail'd the Eye, with Answer rough deprest,
Nor th' empty spreading Palm return'd to beat the Breast:
Who snatch'd the Prey from strong Oppression's Paws,
Disarm'd its Rage, and brake its grinding Jaws.
Whose Mind no meditated Mischiefs knew,
Nor wish'd an Ill tho' to his mortal Foe;
Who ne'r by Pow'r oppos'd the Course of Right,
Nor press'd the helpless, where he found he might;
Whose just A ward kept jarring Friends in Awe,
And sav'd the long litigious Suits of Law;
Who cloath'd himself with lasting Robes of Right,
And grac'd with Justice shone a glorious Sight.
Right, nobler Dress, than Purple Tyrian Gowns!
And Justice fairer Ornament than Crowns!
Whose Actions with a God-like Virtue shine
An Emanation of the Pow'r Divine.
Sacred important Truths and humane Good;
Who studious sought to make the surest Claim,
And see that Heav'n from whence his Virtue came.
Whose Soul extensive Charity possest,
And gen'rous Bounty always sway'd his Breast.
Who never sought malicious Lies to raise,
But silent Pitied what he could not Praise.
Whose Heart and Tongue in strict Alliance join'd,
Nor promis'd Favours which he ne'er design'd.
Who sought Occasions how to Aid the Poor,
And call'd the fainting Trav'ler to his Door:
49
Th' extended Hand, and piteous lifted Eye:
Nor fail'd the Eye, with Answer rough deprest,
Nor th' empty spreading Palm return'd to beat the Breast:
Who snatch'd the Prey from strong Oppression's Paws,
Disarm'd its Rage, and brake its grinding Jaws.
Whose Mind no meditated Mischiefs knew,
Nor wish'd an Ill tho' to his mortal Foe;
Who ne'r by Pow'r oppos'd the Course of Right,
Nor press'd the helpless, where he found he might;
Whose just A ward kept jarring Friends in Awe,
And sav'd the long litigious Suits of Law;
Who cloath'd himself with lasting Robes of Right,
And grac'd with Justice shone a glorious Sight.
50
And Justice fairer Ornament than Crowns!
Whose Actions with a God-like Virtue shine
An Emanation of the Pow'r Divine.
When many Years are o'er, devoid of Strife,
Age leads him stooping to the verge of Life.
With cheerful Look he gladly meets his End,
And welcoms Death, his long expected Friend.
In all his Pangs fair Hope stands smiling by,
And Faith looks upward with expecting Eye.
Nor studious how to make a longer stay,
Vicws Heav'nly Plains and Realms of brighter Day;
Shakes off her Load, and wing'd with ardent Love,
Spurns at the Earth, and springs her flight above;
Soaring thro'Air to Rcalms where Angels'd well,
Pities the shrieking Friends, and leaves the less'ning Bell.
Age leads him stooping to the verge of Life.
With cheerful Look he gladly meets his End,
And welcoms Death, his long expected Friend.
In all his Pangs fair Hope stands smiling by,
And Faith looks upward with expecting Eye.
Nor studious how to make a longer stay,
Vicws Heav'nly Plains and Realms of brighter Day;
Shakes off her Load, and wing'd with ardent Love,
Spurns at the Earth, and springs her flight above;
Soaring thro'Air to Rcalms where Angels'd well,
Pities the shrieking Friends, and leaves the less'ning Bell.
51
Then all that hear, th' important Loss deplore,
And the Poor weep, who never wept before;
And howling at his Obsequies attend,
And mourn the Husband, Father, and the Friend;
Thro' crowds of Blessings is his Corps convey'd,
And lasting Praises wait upon his Shade;
And the Poor weep, who never wept before;
And howling at his Obsequies attend,
And mourn the Husband, Father, and the Friend;
Thro' crowds of Blessings is his Corps convey'd,
And lasting Praises wait upon his Shade;
In open Isles I cast around my Eyes,
And see the monumental Trophies rise,
For daring Youths, who sought the dusty Plain,
And Rostral Columns for the watry Main,
Inscrib'd the equal Praise of those to tell,
Who bravely conquer'd, or as bravely fell.
And see the monumental Trophies rise,
For daring Youths, who sought the dusty Plain,
And Rostral Columns for the watry Main,
Inscrib'd the equal Praise of those to tell,
Who bravely conquer'd, or as bravely fell.
52
With these promiscuous plac'd, I see with Rage
The silent Actors on a private Stage,
Whose empty Epitaphs themselves deride,
And tell us only that they liv'd and dy'd.
Who leave no other Proofs of what they were,
But the old prating Nurse, and Parish Register.
There lovely Maids who fell in youthful bloom,
Constrain'd to Shades by Fate's reversless Doom,
While Death's cold rifling Hand defac'd their Charms,
And ravish'd from a Crowd of Vot'ry's Arms.
The silent Actors on a private Stage,
Whose empty Epitaphs themselves deride,
And tell us only that they liv'd and dy'd.
Who leave no other Proofs of what they were,
But the old prating Nurse, and Parish Register.
There lovely Maids who fell in youthful bloom,
Constrain'd to Shades by Fate's reversless Doom,
While Death's cold rifling Hand defac'd their Charms,
And ravish'd from a Crowd of Vot'ry's Arms.
Ye curious Fair, who tread the Solemn Way,
And View their Tombs, who once, like you, were Gay,
Think on what trifling Chance your Pride depends,
And see, surpriz'd, What Change on Death attends,
When, what has Humour, Mirth and purple Bloom,
Must pale as Box lie faded in the Tomb;
Where Charms no more can make the Crowd admire,
And Youths look solemn, and without desire;
Ev'n the dear He, who once your Soul possest,
And panted glowing Vows upon your Breast,
No more remindful of your mouldring Charms,
Courts a new Face, and fills another's Arms;
And studious how to pass his Hours away,
Frequents th' Assembly and the pleasing Play,
And Midnight Balls, in decent Black array'd,
Nor needs another Dress for Masquerade.
And View their Tombs, who once, like you, were Gay,
Think on what trifling Chance your Pride depends,
And see, surpriz'd, What Change on Death attends,
53
Must pale as Box lie faded in the Tomb;
Where Charms no more can make the Crowd admire,
And Youths look solemn, and without desire;
Ev'n the dear He, who once your Soul possest,
And panted glowing Vows upon your Breast,
No more remindful of your mouldring Charms,
Courts a new Face, and fills another's Arms;
And studious how to pass his Hours away,
Frequents th' Assembly and the pleasing Play,
And Midnight Balls, in decent Black array'd,
Nor needs another Dress for Masquerade.
While you no more to chearful Places known,
Rest in a deep dark Vault and rest Alone;
Where not one Glimpse of Pleasure can appear
And Mirth and Day are equal Strangers there.
There no coy Air is seen, no artful Pride,
No graceful Dance, when the cold Feet are ty'd;
There Songs no more can tender Passions move,
Raise warm Desire, or fan up glowing Love.
The soft Spinett no more shall Mirth inspire,
Nor Notes float dying on the trembling Wire;
Nor warbling Musick leave the pleasing Tongue,
But solemn Chaunting, and the Ev'ning Song:
No Wax-lights there in polish'd Glass aspire,
But weak dim Tapers sleep along the Quire.
The twink'ling Lamps in distant Isles depend,
And massy Pillars deeper Shadows send:
No Revel here, or entertaining Play,
Cuts Night too short, or hates th' encroaching Day.
Hither they only for Religion throng,
Alas Devotion does not hold so long:
Their Task perform'd they flock away a-pace,
And ev'ry one forsakes the dreary Place.
The hooded Prebend plods along before,
And the last Virger claps the ringing Door.
Rest in a deep dark Vault and rest Alone;
54
And Mirth and Day are equal Strangers there.
There no coy Air is seen, no artful Pride,
No graceful Dance, when the cold Feet are ty'd;
There Songs no more can tender Passions move,
Raise warm Desire, or fan up glowing Love.
The soft Spinett no more shall Mirth inspire,
Nor Notes float dying on the trembling Wire;
Nor warbling Musick leave the pleasing Tongue,
But solemn Chaunting, and the Ev'ning Song:
No Wax-lights there in polish'd Glass aspire,
But weak dim Tapers sleep along the Quire.
The twink'ling Lamps in distant Isles depend,
And massy Pillars deeper Shadows send:
No Revel here, or entertaining Play,
Cuts Night too short, or hates th' encroaching Day.
Hither they only for Religion throng,
Alas Devotion does not hold so long:
55
And ev'ry one forsakes the dreary Place.
The hooded Prebend plods along before,
And the last Virger claps the ringing Door.
Should any Curious Thoughtful stay alone,
In the dark Temple when the rest are gone,
No Noise shall strike his Ear, no murm'ring Breath,
Nor one low Whisper in the Hall of Death;
No sounding Foot to trample on the Floor,
Nought but the striking Clock, that wakes the drowsy Hour.
In the dark Temple when the rest are gone,
No Noise shall strike his Ear, no murm'ring Breath,
Nor one low Whisper in the Hall of Death;
No sounding Foot to trample on the Floor,
Nought but the striking Clock, that wakes the drowsy Hour.
Thus Death impartial levels in the Grave
The Young, the Old, the Captive, and the Slave.
“Here Cart'ret's hopeful Youth submits to Fate,
There Par's decrepid Age, tho' summon'd late,
Wondrous to tell! who could with Pleasure stand
See halst hree hundred Harvests cloath his Land!
And more than twice reach David's measur'd Stage,
And more than half of Nestor's fabled Age.
The Young, the Old, the Captive, and the Slave.
“Here Cart'ret's hopeful Youth submits to Fate,
There Par's decrepid Age, tho' summon'd late,
Wondrous to tell! who could with Pleasure stand
See halst hree hundred Harvests cloath his Land!
56
And more than half of Nestor's fabled Age.
See Learning's Ruin in the southern Isle,
Where Death exults in more than common Spoil;
Where Spanheim sleeps, for medal'd Story known,
And Cambden Searcher from the buried Stone;
There gay St. Evremont a Fav'rite Name,
And Causabon of no indiff'rent Fame:
Near Barrow, England's Euclid, rests, and there
Busby, once dreadful, sleeps, and South severe;
South, learn'd and good, Religion's stedfast Friend,
Strict to observe her Rules, and earnest to defend.
And Briton's Bards, the once inspir'd Throng,
Silent in Death, their tuneful Lyres unstrung.
Ye sacred Train! in peaceful quiet sleep,
Round whom the tuneful Nine their Vigils keep.
Where Death exults in more than common Spoil;
Where Spanheim sleeps, for medal'd Story known,
And Cambden Searcher from the buried Stone;
There gay St. Evremont a Fav'rite Name,
And Causabon of no indiff'rent Fame:
Near Barrow, England's Euclid, rests, and there
Busby, once dreadful, sleeps, and South severe;
South, learn'd and good, Religion's stedfast Friend,
Strict to observe her Rules, and earnest to defend.
And Briton's Bards, the once inspir'd Throng,
Silent in Death, their tuneful Lyres unstrung.
Ye sacred Train! in peaceful quiet sleep,
Round whom the tuneful Nine their Vigils keep.
57
To
Chaucer's Name eternal Trophies raise.
And load the antique Stone with wreaths of Bays.
Father of Verse! who in immortal Song,
First taught the Muse to speak the English Tongue:
In early time he rear'd his rev'rend Head,
When Learning was with thick'ning Mists o'erspread:
When rhyming Monks in barb'rous Numbers try
The Lives of Saints, and Feats of Errantry:
Above such trifling idle Tales as these,
His Muse disdain'd by Vulgar Ways to please:
On the fam'd Græcian Bard he fix'd his Sight,
And saw his Beauties through a Cloud of Night.
With Flight advent'rous dar'd the darksom way,
And gave the Promise of a following Day:
And that he might his Meaning better meet,
He made the Mantuan Verse a Lanthorn to his Feet;
Justly design'd, and with a steddy View,
And piercing Eye, he look'd all Nature thro'
Not thro' the gaudy Prism and painted Glass,
But saw her plain, and drew her as she was
His rough bold Strokes with rude unpolish'd Pride,
Art's curious Touch and nicest Care deride:
The Warriour Tale, and Arcite's Love survey,
And let the Greek and Roman Bards give way.
And load the antique Stone with wreaths of Bays.
Father of Verse! who in immortal Song,
First taught the Muse to speak the English Tongue:
In early time he rear'd his rev'rend Head,
When Learning was with thick'ning Mists o'erspread:
When rhyming Monks in barb'rous Numbers try
The Lives of Saints, and Feats of Errantry:
Above such trifling idle Tales as these,
His Muse disdain'd by Vulgar Ways to please:
On the fam'd Græcian Bard he fix'd his Sight,
And saw his Beauties through a Cloud of Night.
With Flight advent'rous dar'd the darksom way,
And gave the Promise of a following Day:
And that he might his Meaning better meet,
He made the Mantuan Verse a Lanthorn to his Feet;
58
And piercing Eye, he look'd all Nature thro'
Not thro' the gaudy Prism and painted Glass,
But saw her plain, and drew her as she was
His rough bold Strokes with rude unpolish'd Pride,
Art's curious Touch and nicest Care deride:
The Warriour Tale, and Arcite's Love survey,
And let the Greek and Roman Bards give way.
With Ivy crown immortal Spencer's Shrine,
And grace his Shade with Rites almost Divine;
Whose Heav'nly Muse describ'd in deathless Lays,
Eliza's Reign, and Albion's golden Days.
And grace his Shade with Rites almost Divine;
Whose Heav'nly Muse describ'd in deathless Lays,
Eliza's Reign, and Albion's golden Days.
There
Drayton rests, who sang the Barons Wars,
The civil Discords, and intestine Jars:
Nor unsuccessful in the am'rous Page,
Esteem'd the Ovid of a former Age.
Here Dav'nant, Shadwell, Rowe, of Lawrel'd Name.
There lofty Denham of superior Fame.
And He first rank'd among th' inspir'd Men,
The Muses Darling Son, Immortal Ben;
Who justly view'd the Vices of the Age,
And brought 'em boldly on the publick Stage;
No mean Designs and threadbare Plots were laid,
The Fop, and the intrigu'ing Chamber-Maid;
Poor weak Performances, which only show
The Conversation of the Pit below;
When to his Legs he purple Buskins ty'd,
And trod the Theater with tragick Pride?
Deep was his Language, Just the great Design,
To draw the Crimes of Artful Cataline.
What ancient Greece, or later Rome has shown.
He fix'd in English Soil and made his own.
On Cowtey's Grave eternal Myrtles bloom,
And all the Muses wait around his Tomb.
Cowley th' inspir'd Nine's peculiar care;
Cowley the Fav'rite of the British Fair;
Whether he sports in gay Anacreon's Vein,
Or boldly soars in Pindar's lofty Strain,
And justly shews the Theban Bard improv'd,
Or drew the Picture of that Life he lov'd.
If here and there the Numbers harsh appear,
And the rough Language grates the nicer Ear,
Think that the Bard, tho' warm'd with noble Rage,
Rose in a hurry'd and distracted Age;
Study'd in Arms, no wonder then by Chance
We find the Musick of the Pyrrhick Dance.
The civil Discords, and intestine Jars:
59
Esteem'd the Ovid of a former Age.
Here Dav'nant, Shadwell, Rowe, of Lawrel'd Name.
There lofty Denham of superior Fame.
And He first rank'd among th' inspir'd Men,
The Muses Darling Son, Immortal Ben;
Who justly view'd the Vices of the Age,
And brought 'em boldly on the publick Stage;
No mean Designs and threadbare Plots were laid,
The Fop, and the intrigu'ing Chamber-Maid;
Poor weak Performances, which only show
The Conversation of the Pit below;
When to his Legs he purple Buskins ty'd,
And trod the Theater with tragick Pride?
Deep was his Language, Just the great Design,
To draw the Crimes of Artful Cataline.
60
He fix'd in English Soil and made his own.
On Cowtey's Grave eternal Myrtles bloom,
And all the Muses wait around his Tomb.
Cowley th' inspir'd Nine's peculiar care;
Cowley the Fav'rite of the British Fair;
Whether he sports in gay Anacreon's Vein,
Or boldly soars in Pindar's lofty Strain,
And justly shews the Theban Bard improv'd,
Or drew the Picture of that Life he lov'd.
If here and there the Numbers harsh appear,
And the rough Language grates the nicer Ear,
Think that the Bard, tho' warm'd with noble Rage,
Rose in a hurry'd and distracted Age;
Study'd in Arms, no wonder then by Chance
We find the Musick of the Pyrrhick Dance.
61
The Field is Pallas' not the Muse's Care,
They shun the Camp, and fly the Seat of War.
On Isis' quiet Banks the Sisters stray,
Or where the Cam thro' Willows winds its way.
From busy Towns the tuneful Train retire,
And Country Fields and silent Shades admire.
They shun the Camp, and fly the Seat of War.
On Isis' quiet Banks the Sisters stray,
Or where the Cam thro' Willows winds its way.
From busy Towns the tuneful Train retire,
And Country Fields and silent Shades admire.
Nor pass my Muse, the tuneful
Prelate's Praise,
Who round the sacred Mitre wreath'd the Bays;
His Bosom warm'd with morethan common Fire
Array'd in holy Lawn, he boldly struck the Lyre.
Such Vida was, Vida of Deathless Fame,
Who reconcil'd the Priests and Poets Name.
Philip's great Name! a due regard commands,
And Tablets rear'd by Harcourt's gen'rous Hand,
While Herefordian Tow'rs his Relicks hide,
And o'er the Earth his Fame is wafted wide.
Thy early Youth express'd such God-like Rage,
Such daring Flights we justly might presage
The growing Wonders of a riper Age.
But early Death did all our Hopes defeat,
And rob'd thy Country of a Prize too great.
Who round the sacred Mitre wreath'd the Bays;
His Bosom warm'd with morethan common Fire
Array'd in holy Lawn, he boldly struck the Lyre.
Such Vida was, Vida of Deathless Fame,
Who reconcil'd the Priests and Poets Name.
Philip's great Name! a due regard commands,
And Tablets rear'd by Harcourt's gen'rous Hand,
While Herefordian Tow'rs his Relicks hide,
And o'er the Earth his Fame is wafted wide.
62
Such daring Flights we justly might presage
The growing Wonders of a riper Age.
But early Death did all our Hopes defeat,
And rob'd thy Country of a Prize too great.
With awful Eye I view great Dryden's Bust,
At distance bow, nor press too near his Dust;
With Pleasure see the letter'd Stone declare
In stately Pride, what noble Guest lies there;
No Epitaph thy Character displays,
'Tis high Presumption to attempt thy Praise.
A needless Task, for can that Creature be
Who has not heard of Homer and of thee?
This Sheffeld knew, nor trifled with thy Fame,
But only bad the Marble bear thy Name.
At distance bow, nor press too near his Dust;
With Pleasure see the letter'd Stone declare
In stately Pride, what noble Guest lies there;
No Epitaph thy Character displays,
'Tis high Presumption to attempt thy Praise.
A needless Task, for can that Creature be
Who has not heard of Homer and of thee?
This Sheffeld knew, nor trifled with thy Fame,
But only bad the Marble bear thy Name.
63
Let Travellers th' Italian Coast explore,
Of pleasing Baja and the winding Shore,
By Virgil's sacred Tomb immortal made,
Round which th' unbidden Lawrel forms a Shade.
These Walls a Poet not inferior claim,
And boast the Honour of as great a Name.
Of pleasing Baja and the winding Shore,
By Virgil's sacred Tomb immortal made,
Round which th' unbidden Lawrel forms a Shade.
These Walls a Poet not inferior claim,
And boast the Honour of as great a Name.
Poets themselves like common Mortals die,
Such are the Laws of hard Necessity;
Not the sweet Musick of the pleasing Tongue,
The heav'nly Numbers nor harmonious Song,
Can plead suspension to the fleeting Breath,
Or Charm th' inexorable Ears of Death,
Who interrupts him even while he Sings,
And with rude Fingers breaks the sounding Strings.
Such are the Laws of hard Necessity;
Not the sweet Musick of the pleasing Tongue,
The heav'nly Numbers nor harmonious Song,
Can plead suspension to the fleeting Breath,
Or Charm th' inexorable Ears of Death,
Who interrupts him even while he Sings,
And with rude Fingers breaks the sounding Strings.
64
Homer, who brought the Warriours deeds to light,
And boldly snatch'd the Hero's Name from Sight,
Fell undistinguish'd like a common Name,
Nor claim'd a Privilege, but empty Fame.
Like him his Sons must view th' oblivious State,
And Prior, Pope, and Congreve yield at length to Fate.
And boldly snatch'd the Hero's Name from Sight,
Fell undistinguish'd like a common Name,
Nor claim'd a Privilege, but empty Fame.
Like him his Sons must view th' oblivious State,
And Prior, Pope, and Congreve yield at length to Fate.
FINIS.
Call'd by Cambden and others, the Barrows. These Earth Tumulums are frequent in several Parts of England: and particularly, I think, I have seen one of the highest and most remarkable on the Downs, beyond Marlborough, near a small Village called Avery.
The-Inscriptions us'd by some of the Britons, were only the Name of the Person cut upon a small Plate of Lead, which was sometimes fix'd upon the Stone Coffin; but more frequently laid upon the Breast of the Corps; of which there are several Instances; but particularly see Somner's Ant. of Cant. upon finding the Body of St. Dunstan, A. B.
Henry II. being at Monmouth Castle in Wales, heard a Druid, or ancient Bard, in a Song under the Castle Window, describe the Place of K. Arthur's Burial, (then unknown): Upon which a Search was made, and the Coffin and Bodies of him and Geneura his Queen, found in the Church-yard of Glastenbury.
The Normans, upon their first Settlement in England, framed their Statues of Oak painted in proper Colours of which we have several remaining less injur'd by Time, than those of Stone; as Robert Duke of Glocester, Hugh de Longspee, and others
| Westminster-Abbey | |