Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 20 Yet e'en these bones, from insult to protect, 21 Their name, their years, spelt by the unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply, And many a holy text around she strews, 22 For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind? 23 On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 24 For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead, 25 Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 26 There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic root so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, 27 Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove; Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. 28 'One morn I miss'd him on the accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he: 29 The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the churchway-path we saw him borne: Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn :'1 1 THE EPITAPH. 30 Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown: 31 Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere ; Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to misery all he had-a tear; He gain'd from Heaven-'twas all he wish'd-a In early editions, the following stanza occurred :— There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; 32 No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God. EPITAPH ON MRS JANE CLARKE.1 Lo! where this silent marble weeps, She felt the wound she left behind. Her infant image here below Sits smiling on a father's woe: Whom what awaits while yet he strays Along the lonely vale of days? A pang, to secret sorrow dear, A sigh, an unavailing tear, Till time shall every grief remove With life, with memory, and with love. STANZAS, SUGGESTED BY A VIEW OF THE SEAT AND RUINS AT KINGSGATE, IN KENT, 1766. 1 OLD, and abandon'd by each venal friend, Here Holland took the pious resolution, 26 Mrs Jane Clarke:' this lady, the wife of Dr Clarke, physician at Epsom, died April 27, 1757, and is buried in the church of Beckenham, Kent. To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend 2 On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice; Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice, And mariners, though shipwreck'd, fear to land. 3 Here reign the blustering North, and blasting East, No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing; Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast, 1 Now mouldering fanes and battlements arise, 5Ah!' said the sighing peer, had Bute been true, Nor C's, nor B-d's promises been vain, Far other scenes than this had graced our view, And realised the horrors which we feign. 6 Purged by the sword, and purified by fire, TRANSLATION FROM STATIUS. THIRD in the labours of the disc came on, Artful and strong he poised the well-known weight, His vigorous arm he tried before he flung, The theatre's green height and woody wall The ponderous mass sinks in the cleaving ground, 3 10 20 |
