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The Lady-Errant

A Tragi-Comedy
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To the Memory of the deceased Author Mr William Cartvvright.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

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To the Memory of the deceased Author Mr William Cartvvright.

'Tis a bold work to fall on Riming now
When (Cartwright) thou art gone who taught'st us how:
Thou wert both Card and Pilot, 'twas thy Hand
Steer'd all our Wit as free from Rocks as Sand;
From running low on Shallowes, or Aside,
Why, when, and where, to anchor, and to ride:
But now, without thy Rules, we creep about
Like Sea-men e'r the Load-stone was found out.
And yet wert thou alive we should not write,
Our Little would be None in thy full Light;
Men would keep up their Palates for thy Muse,
Tasting us but to know what to refuse,
(And who would scribble, never to be read?)
So whether thou art still alive or dead
We should forbear. But yet wee'll trespass on,
If but to tell the World that Thou art gone:
O could we mourn thy Fall with such a Verse
As thou didst powre on honour'd Johnson's Hearse!
An Elegie so high and wisely writ,
It shews who is and who is not a Wit;
Which had He liv'd to read, He had defi'd
All the mad World, having Thee on his side;
For Thou so praisest Him, thy Eulogy
Still dwels on Him, and yet rebounds to Thee;
Thine and His Temples jointly Crown'd: elsewhere
Thou outwrit'st Others, but thy own self there.
VVil. Stanton Esq;