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Tending the bed of anguish; how great GEORGE
Wept with his infant progeny around;

How heav'd the orphan's and the widow's figh,
That follow'd FREDERIC to the filent tomb.

For well was FREDERIC lov'd; and well deferv'd: His voice was ever sweet, and on his steps Attended ever the alluring grace

Of gentle lowlinefs and focial zeal.
Him fhall remember oft the labour'd hind,
Relating to his mates each cafual act
Of courteous bounty. Him th' artificer,
Plying the varied woof in fullen sadness,
Tho' wont to carrol many a ditty sweet.
Soon too the mariner, who many moons
Has counted, beating ftill the foamy furge,
And treads at last the wish'd-for beach, fhall ftand
Appall'd at the fad tale, and foon shall steal
Down his rough cheek th' involuntary tear.
Be this our folace yet, all is not dead;
The bright memorial lives: for his example
Shall Hymen trim his torch, domestic praise
Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer fhew.
In age fucceeding, when another GEORGE,
To ratify fome weighty ordinance

Of Britain's peers conven'd, shall pass befide
Those hallow'd fpires, whofe gloomy vaults enclose
Shrouded in fleep, pale rows of fcepter'd kings,
Oft to his fenfe the fweet paternal voice,

G

And long-remember'd features shall return;
Then shall his generous breast be new inflam'd
To acts of highest worth, and highest fame.
These plaintive ftrains from ALBION far away,
I lonely meditate at even-tide;

Nor skill'd nor ftudious of the raptur'd lay;
But still remembring oft the magic founds,
Well-meafur'd to the chime of Dorian lute,
Or paft'ral ftop, which erft I lov'd to hear
On Isis' broider'd mead, where dips by fits.
The stooping ofier in her hafty stream.

Hail WOLSEY's fpacious dome! hail, ever fam'd
For faithful nurture, and truth's facred lore,
Much honour'd parent! You my duteous zeal
Accept, if haply in thy laureat wreath
You deign to interweave this humble fong.

ON THE SAME.

BY MR. JAMES CLITHEROW OF ALL SOULS COLL.

T

I.

WAS on the evening of that gloomy day,

When FREDERIC, ever lov'd, and ever mourn'd, (Such heav'n's high will, and who shall disobey ?) To earth's cold womb in holy pomp return'd:

II.

With fullen founds, the death-denouncing bell
Proclaim'd aloud the difmal tale of woe,
The pealing organ join'd the folemn knell,
In mournful notes, majestically flow.

III.

The full-voic'd choir, in ftoles of pureft white,
With frequent paufe, the foul-felt anthem raife';
While o'er the walls in darkest fable dight,
A thousand tapers pour'd their holy blaze.

IV.

W

In high devotion wrapt, the mitred fage,
With energy fublime, the rites began;
While tears from every sex, and every age,
Bewail'd the prince, the father, and the man.

V.

"Who, when our fov'reign liege to fate shall yield, "Shall prop, like him, Britannia's falling state? "Who now the vengeful sword of justice wield, "Or ope, like him, fweet Mercy's golden gate? VI.

"Who fhall to Arts their pristine honours bring, "Rear from the dust fair Learning's laurell'd head, "Or bid rich commerce plume her daring wing? "Arts, Learning, Commerce are in FREDERIC dead.

VII.

"Who now shall tend, with fond, paternal care, "The future guardians of our faith and laws? "Who teach their breasts with patriot worth to dare, "And die with ardour, in Britannia's caufe?

VIII.

"And who, ah! who, with foft endearing lore, "Shall footh, like him, the royal mourner's breast ? "Her lord, her life, her FREDERIC is no more.' Deep groans and bitter wailings fpeak the reft.

IX.

Then, when at length the awful scene was clos'd, And duft to duft in holy hope confign'd;

All to their filent homes their steps difpos'd,

To feed on folitary woe the mind;

x.

All but Lorenzo;-he with grief dismay'd;
Nor heeding ought but FREDERIC's hapless fate,
Mufing along the cloyster'd temple ftray'd,
Till lonely midnight clos'd th' impervious gate.

XI.

But when each lamp by flow degrees expir'd,
And total night affumes her filent reign,
Sudden he starts, with wild amazement fir'd,
And big with horror traverses the fane.

XII.

The vaulted manfions of th' illuftrious dead
Infpire his fhudd'ring foul with ghaftly fears,
Dire shapes, and beck'ning fhades around him tread,
And hollow voices murmur in his ears.

XIII.

There, as around the monumental maze
Darkling he wanders, a refplendent gleam

Shoots o'er th' illumin’d isle a distant blaze,
Pale as the glow-worm's fire, or Cynthia's beam.

XIV.

With glory clad, th' imperial fhrines among, Four royal fhapes on iv'ry thrones were plac'd, High o'er their heads four airy diadems hung, Which never yet their maiden brows had grac❜d.

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