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?Twas there of juft and good he reason'd strong,
Clear'd some great truth, or rais'd some serious fong
There patient Show'd us the wife course to steer,
A candid censor and a friend sincere ;
There taught us how to live ; and (oh! too high
The price for knowledge) taught us how to die.
Thou hill, whofe brow the antique structures grace,
Rear'd by bold chiefs of Warwick’s noble race,
Why, once so lov'd, when-e'er thy bower appears,
O'er my dim eye-balls glance the sudden tears!
How sweet werè once thy prospects fresh and fair,
Thy floping walks and unpolluted air!
How sweet the glooms beneath thy aged trees,
Thy noon-tide shadow, and the evening breeze !
His image thy forsaken bowers restore;
Thy walks and airy prospects charm no more ;
No more the summer in thy glooms allay'd,
Thy evening breezes, and thy noon-day shade.
From other ills, however fortune frown'd,
Some refuge in the Mufe's art I found;
Reluctant now I touch the trembling string,
Bereft of him, who taught me how to fing;
And these fad accents, murmur'd o'er his
Betray that absence they attempt to mourn.
Oh! muft I then (now fresh my bosom bleeds,
And Craggs in death to Addison succeeds) |
The verse, begun to one loft friend prolong,
And weep a second in th' unfinish'd song!
These words divine, which, on his death-bed laid,
To thee, Craggs, th' expiring fage convey'd,
Great, but ill-omen'd monument of fame,
Nor he surviv'd to give, nor thou to claim.
Swift afker him thy focial spirit flies,
“And clofe to his, how soon ! thy coffin lies.
Blest pair! whole union future bards shall tell
In future tongues : each other's boast ! farewel,
Farewel! whom join'd in fame, in friendfhip try'd,
No chance could sever, nor the grave divide.
F Leinfer fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace ;
Nor c'er did Liffy's limpid fiream
Reflect a fairer face;
'Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rosy hue,
Her dainty lip, her damaik cheek,
And eyes of glossy blue.
Ah! have you feen a lily pale
When beating rains descend?
So droop'd this slow-consuming maid,
Her life now near its end,
By Lucy warn'd, of Alatt'ring swains
Take heed, ye easy fair;
Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye flatt'ring fwains beware!
Three times all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring ;
And at her window shrieking thrice,
The raven flap'd his wing.
Full well the love-lorn maiden knew
The folemn boding found,
And thus in dying words bespake
The virgins weeping round,
" I hear a voice you cannot hear,
" That cries, I must not stay:
6 I see a hand you cannot fee,
" That beckons me away.
“ Of a false swain and broken heart,
“ In early youth I die;
“ Am I to blame, because the bride
is Is twice rich as I?
'« Ah, COLIN, give not her thy vows,
66 Vows due to me alone!
“ Nor thou, rah girl, receive his kiss,
“ Nor think him all thy own!
« To-morrow in the church to wed
“ Impatient both prepare :
« But know, false man, and know, fond maid,
6 Poor Lucy will be there.
* Then bear
my corse, ye
“ The bridegroom blithe to meet;
“ He in his wedding-trim so gay,
“ I in my winding sheet.”
She fpake, the dy'd, her corse was borne,
The bridegroom blithe to meet ;
He in his wedding trim so gay,
She in her winding sheet.
What then were Colin's dreadful thoughts ;
How were these nuptials kept ?
The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.
Compassion, frame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell :
*The damps of death bedew'd his brow,
He groan'd, he fhook, he fell.
From the vain bride, a bride no more,
The varying crimson filed;
When, ftretch'd beside her rival's corse,
She saw her lover dead,
He to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,
In the same mould, beneath one fod,
For-eyer now remains.
Oft at this place the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen;
With garlands gay, and true love knots
They deck the facred green.