Who broke no Promise, serv'd no private End,
Who gain'd no Title, and who lost no Friend,
Ennobled by Himself, by All approv'd,

Prais'd, wept, and honour'd, by the Muse he lov'd.

V.

Intended for Mr. R O W E,
In Weftminster-Abbey.

THY

HY reliques, Rowe, to this fair Urn we trust, And facred, place by Dryden's awful duft: Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies, To which thy Tomb fhall guide inquiring eyes. Peace to thy gentle fhade, and endless rest! Bleft in thy Genius, in thy Love too blest! One grateful woman to thy fame fupplies What a whole thanklefs land to his denies.

VARIATION.

5

It is as follows on the Monument in the Abbey erected to Rowe and his Daughter.

Thy Reliques, RowE! to this fad fhrine we trust,
And near thy Shakespeare place thy honour'd bust,
Oh, next him, skill'd to draw the tender tear,
For never heart felt paffion more fincere ;
To nobler fentiment to fire the brave,
For never Briton more difdain'd a flave.
Peace to thy gentle fhade, and endless rest;
Bleft in thy genius, in thy love too bleft!
And bleft, that, timely from our fcene remov'd,
Thy foul enjoys the liberty it lov'd.
To these fo mourn'd in death, fo lov'd in life;
The childlefs parent and the widow'd wife,
With tears infcribes this monumental ftone,
That holds their ashes and expects her own.

A a 4

VI. On

H

VI.

On Mrs. CORBET,

Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.

ERE refts a Woman, good without pretence,
Bleft with plain Reason, and with fober Sense:
No Conquefts fhe, but o'er herself, defir'd,
No Arts effay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Paffion and Pride were to her Soul unknown,
Convinc'd that Virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, fo compos'd a mind;
So firm, yet foft; so strong, yet so refin'd;
Heaven, as its pureft gold, by Tortures try'd;
The Saint fuftain'd it, but the Woman dy'd,

VII.

On the Monument of the Honourable ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sifter MARY, erected by their Father the LORD DIGBY, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727.

G

O! fair Example of untainted youth,

Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth: Compos'd in fufferings, and in joy sedate, Good without noife, without pretenfion great. Juft of thy word, in every thought fincere,

Who knew no wish but what the world might hear : Of foftest manners, unaffected mind,

Lover of peace, and friend of human kind:

Go,

Go, live! for Heaven's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy Moral to Divine.

And thou, bleft Maid! attendant on his doom,
Penfive haft follow'd to the filent tomb,
Steer'd the fame courfe to the fame quiet fhore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more!
Go then, where only blifs fincere is known!
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one!

Yet take these Tears, Mortality's relief,
And till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
These little rites, a Stone, a Verse receive;
'Tis all a Father, all a Friend can give!

VIII.

On Sir GODFREY KNELLER,
In Weftminster-Abbey, 1723.

KNELLER, by Heaven and not a Master taught,

Whofe Art was Nature, and whofe Pictures
Thought;

Now for two ages having snatch'd from Fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crown'd with Princes honours, Poets lays,
Due to his Merit, and brave Thirst of praife.
Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie
Her works; and, dying, fears herself die.

may

DIGBY,
their Fath

of Sherborne

GO! fair Exam

Of modeft wifd Compos'd in fuffering: Good without noise, wit Juft of thy word, in eve Who knew no wish bu Of foftest manners, una Lover of peace, and fri