 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
67
ON THE DEATH OF CHARLES PEMBROKE, ESQ.
Where yon green tombs their heads promiscuous raise,With tearful eyes let Friendship mark the spot
Where Pembroke slumbers. Upright and sincere,
For public worth esteem'd, for private lov'd,
Approving Virtue smil'd upon his life,
And soft eyed sorrow consecrates his urn.
Above that spot where rests his honour'd dust,
The sportive child may spend his idle hours,
Unthinking that the silent form below
Was once like him, like him was wont to play,
Unknown to care. Thrice happy innocent!
Thou too shalt fall, and on thy humble grave
Another child, unthinking as thyself,
Light as the lark, and rosy as the morn,
Shall frolic in his turn. Thus 'tis with man:
Like Autumn's leaves the present race decays,
Another race succeeds. But after death
Shall Virtue live, and live to die no more,
In better climes, from mortal eyes retir'd.
There, Pembroke, there thy sainted spirit dwells,
In everlasting rest; there, far remov'd
From all the troubles of the world, enjoys
The sure reward of goodness here below,
Eternal, boundless happiness above.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |