EPITAPH

ON MRS. M. HIGGINS, OF WESTON.

[1791]

LAURELS may flourish round the conqueror's tomb,
But happiest they who win the world to come:
Believers have a silent field to fight,

And their exploits are veil'd from human sight.
They, in some nook, where, little known, they dwell,
Kneel, pray in faith, and rout the hosts of hell;
Eternal triumphs crown their toils divine,
And all those triumphs, Mary, now are thine.

EPITAPH ON "FOP,"

A DOG BELONGING TO LADY THROCKMORTON.

[August, 1792.]

THOUGH Once a puppy, and though Fop by name,

Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim.

No sycophant, although of spaniel race,

And, though no hound, a martyr to the chase

Ye squirrels, rabbits, leverets, rejoice,

Your haunts no longer echo to his voice;
This record of his fate exulting view,

He died worn out with vain pursuit of you.

"Yes," the indignant shade of Fop replies"And worn with vain pursuit man also dies."

EPITAPH ON A HARE.

HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter greyhound follow,—
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's hollo';

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night,

He did it with a jealous look,

And, when he could, would bite.

His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw;

Thistles, or lettuces instead,

With sand to scour his maw.

On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
On pippins' russet peel,

And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he loved to bound,-
To skip and gambol like a fawn,

And swing his rump around.

His frisking was at evening hours,

For then he lost his fear,

But most before approaching showers,
Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years, and five round-rolling moons,

He thus saw steal away,

Dozing out all his idle noons,

And every night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile

My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.

But now, beneath this walnut shade
He finds his long last home,
And waits, in snug concealment laid,
Till gentler Puss shall come:

He, still more aged, feels the shocks
From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.

LINES,

Composed for a Memorial of ASHLEY COWPER, Esq., immediately after his death, by his Nephew WILLIAM, of Weston.

[June, 1788.]

FAREWELL! endued with all that could engage
All hearts to love thee, both in youth and age!
In prime of life, for sprightliness enroll'd
Among the gay, yet virtuous as the old;
In life's last stage (O! blessings rarely found,)
Pleasant as youth with all its blossoms crown'd;
Through every period of this changeful state
Unchanged thyself-wise, good, affectionate!

Marble may flatter; and, lest this should seem O'ercharged with praises on so dear a theme, Although thy worth be more than half suppress'd, Love shall be satisfied, and veil the rest.

HYMN,

FOR THE USE OF THE SUNDAY SCHOOL AT OLNEY.

HEAR, Lord, the song of praise and prayer,

In Heaven, Thy dwelling-place,

From infants made the public care,
And taught to seek Thy face.

Thanks for Thy word, and for Thy day,
And grant us, we implore,
Never to waste, in sinful play,

Thy holy sabbaths more.

Thanks that we hear,-but O impart

To each desires sincere,

That we may listen with our heart,
And learn as well as hear.

For if vain thoughts the mind engage
Of older far than we,

What hope, that, at our heedless age,
Our minds should e'er be free?

Much hope, if Thou our spirits take
Under Thy gracious sway,
Who canst the wisest wiser make,
And babes as wise as they.

Wisdom and bliss Thy Word bestows,

A sun that ne'er declines;

And be thy mercies shower'd on those
Who placed us where it shines.