Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd mufe,

The place of fame and elegy supply,

And many a holy text around fhe ftrews,
That teach the ruftic moralift to dye.

For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleafing anxious being e'er refign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the chearful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind?

On fome fond breaft the parting foul relies, Some pious drops the clofing eye requires; E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, Still in their afhes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd dead Doft in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate, Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may say, Oft have we feen him at the peep of dawn Brufhing with hafty dews away, To meet the fun upon the upland lawn.

There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantaftic roots so high, His liftlefs length at noontide wou'd he stretch, And porc upon the brook that babbles by.

Hard by yon wood, now fmiling as in fcorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn, 'Or craz❜d with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.

• One morn I mifs'd him on the custom'd hill,

Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree;

• Another came; nor yet befide the rill,

• Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. The next with dirges due in fad array,

• Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne.
• Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,
• Grav'd on the ftone beneath yon aged thorn.

• There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unfeen, are show'rs of violets found;
The red-breaft loves to build and warble there,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground.

"Here refts his head upon the lap of earth "A youth to fortune and to fame unknown : "Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, "And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

66

Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere, "Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend: "He gave to misʼry (all he had) a tear; "He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. "No farther feek his merits to disclose, "Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, "(There they alike in trembling hope repofe) "The bofom of his father and his God.

ON THE DEATH OF

FREDERIC PRINCE OF WALES.

WRITTEN AT PARIS, BY DAVID LORD VISCOUNT STORMONT, OF CH. CH. OXON.

L'

ITTLE I whilom deem'd my artless zeal

Should woo the British Muse in foreign land To strains of bitter argument, and teach

The mimic Nymph, that haunts the winding verge
And oozy current of Parifian Seine,

To fyllable new founds in accents strange.
But fad occafion calls: who now forbears
The laft kind office? who but confecrates
His off'ring at the shrine of fair Renown
To gracious FREDERIC rais'd; tho' but compos'd
Of the waste flourets, whose neglected hues
Chequer the lonely hedge, or mountain slope?

Where are those hopes, where fled th' illufive scenes That forgeful fancy plan'd, what time the bark Stem'd the falt wave from Albion's chalky bourn? Then filial Piety and parting Love

Pour'd the fond pray'r; "Farewell, ye lefs'ning 66 cliffs,

"Fairer to me, than ought in fabled fong "Or myftic record told of fhores Atlantic! "Favour'd of heav'n, farewell! imperial ifle, "Native to nobleft wits, and best approv'd "In manly science, and advent'rous deed! "Celestial Freedom, by rude hand estrang'd "From regions once frequented, with Thee takes "Her ftedfaft ftation, faft befide the throne "Of scepter'd Rule, and there her state maintains "In focial concord, and harmonious love.

"These bleffings ftill be thine, nor meddling fiend "Stir in your busy streets foul Faction's roar; "Still thrive your growing works, and gales propitious "Vifit your fons who ride the watry waste; "And still be heard from forth your gladfome bow'rs "Shrill tabor-pipes, and ev'ry peaceful found.

your care,

"Nor vain the wish, while GEORGE the golden fcale "With steady prudence holds, and temp'rate fway. "And when his courfe of earthly honours run, "With lenient hand fhall FREDERIC footh "Rich in each princely quality, mature "In years, and happiest in nuptial choice. "Thence too arife new hopes, a playful troop "Circles his hearth, fweet pledges of that bed, "Which Faith, and Joy, and thousand Virtues guard. "His be the care t' inform their ductile minds "With worthieft thoughts, and point the ways of

honour.

"How often shall he hear with fresh delight "Their earnest tales, or watch their rifing paffions "With timorous attention; then shall tell "Of juftice, fortitude and public weal, "And oft the while each rigid precept smooth "With winning tokens of parental love!"

Thus my o'erweening heart the secret stores Of Britain's hope explor'd, while my ftrain'd fight Purfued her fading hills, till wrapt in mift They gently funk beneath the fwelling tide. Nor flept those thoughts, whene'er in other climes I mark'd the cruel waste of foul oppreffion, Saw nobleft fpirits, and goodlieft faculties, To vaffalage and loathsome service bound.

Then confcious preference rofe; then northward turn'd

My eye, to gratulate my natal foil.

How have I chid with froward eagerness

Each veering blast, that from my hand witheld
The well known characters of some lov'd friend,
Tho' diftant, not unmindful? Still I learn'd
Delighted, what each patriot plan devis'd
Of arts, or glory, or diffufive commerce.
Nor wanted its endearment every tale
Of lightest import. But oh! heavy change,
What notices come now? Diftracted fcenes
Of helpless forrow, folemn fad accounts;
How fair AUGUSTA watch'd the weary night