My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breaft th' imperfect joys expire. Yet Morning fmiles the bufy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men: The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain; I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more, because I weep in vain.-- PITAPH Ε Ρ Ι Τ Α Ρ Η II. FON L MRS. CLARK E*. O! where this filent marble weeps, A Friend, a Wife, a Mother fleeps.; A Heart, within whofe facred cell The peaceful Virtues lov'd to dwell. Affection warm, and Faith fincere, And foft Humanity were there. Mrs. Clarke was the wife of Dr. Clarke, Phyfician at Epfom,. and died April 27, 1757. |