The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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At the Death of that excellent Man Sir Thomas Abney.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
585
At the Death of that excellent Man Sir Thomas Abney.
A SOLILOQUY, OR MOURNING MEDITATION.
‘Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
‘Tam chari capitis? Præcipe lugubres
‘Cantus, Melpomene. [OMITTED]
‘Ergone Abneium perpetuus sopor
‘Urget? Cui pudor & justitiæ soror
‘Incorrupta fides, nudaque veritas,
‘Quando ullum invenient parem?’
HOR.
‘Tam chari capitis? Præcipe lugubres
‘Cantus, Melpomene. [OMITTED]
‘Ergone Abneium perpetuus sopor
‘Urget? Cui pudor & justitiæ soror
‘Incorrupta fides, nudaque veritas,
‘Quando ullum invenient parem?’
HOR.
586
PART I. His private Life.
I
Abney expires. A general groanSounds thro' the house. How must a friend behave
Where death and grief have rais'd a throne,
And the sad chambers seem th'apartments of the grave?
II
Shall I appear amongst the chiefOf mourners, wailing o'er the dear deceas'd?
Or must I seek to charm their grief,
And in distress of soul to comfort the distress'd?
III
I mourn by turns, and comfort too;He that can feel, can ease another's smart:
The drops of sympathetic woe
Convey the heav'nly cordial warmer to the heart.
IV
We mourn a thousand joys deceas'd,We name the husband with a mournful tongue;
He, when the pow'rs of life decreas'd,
Felt the diviner flames of love for ever young.
V
Thrice happy man! Thrice happy pair!If love could bid approaching death remove,
The painful name of widow here
Had ever been unknown: But death is deaf to love.
VI
Albina mourns, she mourns alone,Her grief unrivall'd in a house of tears,
The partner of her soul is gone,
Who doubled all her joys, and half sustain'd her cares.
VII
See the fair offspring of the dead,With their young griefs Albina they inclose,
Beside the father's dying bed;
And as her woes increase, their love and duty grows.
VIII
The children feel the mother's pain,Down their pale cheeks the trickling sorrows roll;
The mother sees and weeps again,
With all the tender passions struggling in her soul.
IX
The tender passions reign and spreadThro' the whole house, and to the courts descend:
We mourn the best of brothers dead;
We mourn the kindest master, and the firmest friend.
X
We mourn; but not as wretches do,Where vicious lives all hope in death destroy:
A falling tear is nature's due;
But hope climbs high, and borders on celestial joy.
XI
There sits the late departed saint;There dwells the husband, father, brother, friend:
Then let us cease the sore complaint,
Or mingled with our groans let notes of praise ascend.
XII
Great God, to thee we raise our song,Thine were the graces that enrich'd his mind;
We bless thee, that he shone so long,
And left so fair a track of pious life behind.
PART II. His public Character and Death.
I
But can domestic sorrow showA nation's loss? Can private tears suffice
To mourn the saint and ruler too,
Great names, so rarely join'd below the blissful skies?
II
Could Abney in our world be born,Could Abney live, and not Britannia smile?
Or die, and not Britannia mourn,
When such ethereal worth left our degenerate isle?
III
'Twas heav'nly wisdom, zeal divine,Taught him the balance and the sword to hold:
His looks with sacred justice shine
Beyond the scarlet honours, or the wreathen gold.
IV
Truth, freedom, courage, prudence stoodAttending, when he fill'd the solemn chair:
He knew no friendships, birth, nor blood,
Nor wealth, nor gay attire, when criminals were there.
V
He sign'd their doom with steady hand;Yet drops of pity from his eyelids roll:
He punish'd to reform the land,
With terror on his brow, and mercy in his soul.
587
VI
His tongue was much unskill'd to chide;Soft were his lips, and all his language sweet:
His soul disdain'd the airs of pride,
Yet love and reverence greet him thro' the crowded street.
VII
Godlike he lived and acted here,Moving unseen, and still sublimely great;
Yet when his country claim'd his care,
Descending he appear'd, and bore the pomp of state.
VIII
He more than once oblig'd the throne,And sav'd the nation; yet he shunn'd the fame,
Careless to make his merit known.
The christian hath enough, that heav'n records his name.
IX
His humble soul convers'd on high;Heav'n was his hope, his rest, his native home:
His treasures lay above the sky;
Much he possess'd on earth, but more in worlds to come.
X
With silent steps he trac'd the wayTo the fair courts of light, his wish'd abode;
Nor would he ask a moment's stay,
Nor make the convoy wait, that call'd his soul to God.
XI
See the good man with head reclin'd,And peaceful heart, resign his precious breath:
No guilty thoughts oppress his mind;
Calm and serene his life, serene and calm his death.
XII
Laden with honours and with years,His vigorous virtue shot a youthful ray;
And while he ends his race, appears
Bright as the setting-sun of a long cloudless day.
XIII
Spent with the toil of busy hours,Nature retir'd and life sunk down to sleep:
Come, dress the bed with fadeless flow'rs,
Come, angels, round his tomb immortal vigils keep.
XIV
The heart of every Briton rearsA monument to Abney's spotless fame;
The pencil faints, the muse despairs;
His country's grief and love must eternise his name.
Sic cecinit mœrens,
Inter mœrores domesticos,
Et patriæ suæ luctus,
Inter mœrores domesticos,
Et patriæ suæ luctus,
I. W.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |