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Of fickness watch thee, and thy languid head
Whole nights on her unwearied arm fuitain,
And charm away the sense of pain :

Nor did she crown your 'mutual flame
With pledges dear, and with a father's tender name.

XVI.
O beit of wives ! O dearer far to me

Than when thy virgin charms

Were yielded to my arms,
How can my soul endure the loss of thee?
How in the world, to me a desart grown,

Abandon'd, and alone,
Without

my
sweet

companion can I live?
Without thy lovely smile,
The dear reward of every virtuous toil,
What pleasures now can pall’d Ambition give ?

Ev'n the delightful sense of well-earn’d praise, Unshar'd by thee, no more my lifeless thoughts could

raise.

XVII.
For my distracted mind

What fuccour can I find ?
On whom for consolation shall I call ?

Support me every friend,

Your kind assistance lend
To bear the weight of this oppressive woe.

Alas! each friend of mine,
My dear departed love, so much was thine,

has
any

comfort to bestow.
My books, my best relief
In every other grief,
now with

your

idea fadden'd all : Each fav’rite author we together read My tortur'd mem'ry wounds, and speaks of Ley

dead.

That none

Are

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XVIII.
We were the happiest pair of human kind!
The rolling year its varying course performid

And back return'd again ;
Another and another smiling came,
And saw our happiness unchang'd remain ;

Still in her golden chain
Harmonious Concord did our wishes bind;
Our studies, pleafures, talte, the fame.

O fatal, fatal Itroke.
That all this pleasing fabric Love had rais'd

Of rare felicity,
On which ev'n wanton Vice with envy gaz'd,
And
every

scheme of bliss our hearts had form'd With foothing hope, for many a future day,

In one fad moment broke !
Yet O my soul, thy rising murmurs stay,
Nor dare 'th all wife Difpofer to arraign,

Or against his supreme decree

With impious grief complain.
That all thy full-blown joys at once should fade
Was his most righteous will, and be that will obey'd.

XIX.

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Would thý fond love his grace to her controul,
And in these low abodes of fin and pain
Her
pure,

exalted foul
Unjustly for thy partial good detain ?
No rather strive thy, grov'ling mind to raise

Up to that unclouded blaze,
That heav'nly radiance of eternal light,
In which enthron'd she now with pity fees
How frail, how insecure, how flight,

Is every mortal bliss ;
Ev'n love itself if rising by degrees

Beyond the bounds of this imperfect state,

Whose fleeting joys so soon must end,
It does not too its sov'reign Good ascend.

Rise then, my soul, with hope elate,
And seek those regions of serene delight,
Whose peaceful path and ever open gate
Nor feet but those of harden'd guilt shall miss.

There death himself thy Lucy shall restore, There yield up all his pow'r ne'er to divide us more.

V E R S E S

Making part of an

EPITAPH on the fame LADY.

By the Same.

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ADE to engage all hearts, and charm all eyes ;

Tho' meek, magnanimous, tho' witty, wise ; Polite, as all her life in courts had been ; Yet good, as she the world had never seen; The noble fire of an exalted mind, With gentle female tenderness combin'd. Her Speech was the melodious voice of Love, Her Song the warbling of the vernal Grove; Her Eloquence was sweeter than her Song, Soft as her Heart, and as her Reason ítrong ; Her Form each beauty of her mind express’d, Her Mind was Virtue by the Graces dress’d.

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L

OUD howls the storm ! the vex'd Atlantic roars !

Thy Genius, Britain, wanders on its shores !
Hears cries of horror wafted from afar,
And groans of Anguilh, mid the shrieks of War!
Hears the deep curses of the Great and Brave,
Sigh in the wind, and murmur on the wave !
O'er his damp brow the sable crape he binds,
And throws his * victor garland to the winds ;
Bids haggard Winter in the drear fojourn,
Tear the dim foliage from her drizzling urn;

* Victor garland.--Alluding to the conquest by Lord Cornwallis.

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