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But as "amor vincit omnia," his heart was unalterably fixed on the pretty young creature already named. Their courtship, which was all by stealth, unknown to the family, continued about a year. When it was found out, old Wrightfon, his wife, and particularly their rooked daughter Hannah, flouted at the maiden, and treated her with notable contempt. For they held it as a maxim, and a ruftic one it is, "that blood was nothing without groats."

The young lover fickened, and took to his bed about Shrove-Tuesday, and died the Sunday fevennight after.

On the last day of his illness, he defired to fee his miftrefs. She was civilly received by the mother, who hid her welcome-when it was too late. But her daughter Hannah lay at his back; to cut them off from all opportunity of exchanging their thoughts.

At her return home, on hearing the bell toll out for his departure, fhe fcreamed aloud that her heart was burft, and expired fome moments after.

The then curat: of Bowes* inferted it in his regifter, that they both died of love, and were buried in the fame grave, March 15, 1714. I am,


Yours, &c.

*Bowes is a fmall village in Yorkshire, where in former times the Earls of Richmond had a caftle. It ftands on the edge of that vaft and mountainous tract, named by the neighbouring people, Stanemore; which is always expofed to wind and weather, defolate and folitary throughout. CAMD. BRIT.



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CROWN'D with honour, bleft with length of days, Thou whom the wife revere, the worthy praife; Juft guardian of those laws thy voice explain'd, And meriting all titles thou haft gain’d— Though ftill the fairest from heaven's bounty flow; For good and great no monarch can bestow: Yet thus, of health, of fame, of friends poffeft, No fortune, Hardwicke, is fincerely blest. All human-kind are fons of forrow born : The great muft fuffer, and the good must mourn.

For fay, can Wisdom's self, what late was thine,
Can fortitude, without a figh, refign?

Ah, no! when Love, when Reason, hand in hand,
O'er the cold urn confenting Mourners stand,
The firmeft heart diffolves to foften here:
And Piety applauds the falling tear.

Thofe facred drops, by virtuous weakness shed,
Adorn the living, while they grace the dead:

From tender thought their source unblam'd they draw,
By Heaven approv'd, and true to Nature's law.


When his lov'd Child the Roman could not fave,, Immortal Tully, from an early grave'

No common forms his home-felt paffion kept :-
The fage, the patriot, in the parent, wept.

And O by grief ally'd, as join'd in fame,
The fame thy lofs, thy forrows are the fame.
She whom the Mufes, whom the Loves deplore,.
Ev'n fhe, thy pride and pleasure, is no more:
In bloom of years, in all her virtue's bloom,
Loft to thy hopes, and filent in the tomb.

O feafon mark'd by mourning and despair!
Thy blafts, how fatal to the Young and Fair?
For vernal freshness, for the balmy breeze,
Thy tainted winds came pregnant with difeafe:.
Sick Nature funk before the mortal breath,
That scatter'd fever, agony, and death!
What funerals has thy cruel ravage spread!
What eyes have flow'd! what noble bofoms bled!
Here let Reflection fix her fober view:

think, who fuffer, and who figh with you.
See, rudely fnatch'd, in all her pride of charms,
Bright Granby from a youthful husband's arms!
In climes far diftant, fee that husband mourn;
His arms revers'd, his recent laurel torn!
Behold again, at Fate's imperious call,
In one dread inftant blooming Lincoln fall!


* Tullia died about the age of two and thirty. She is celebrated for her filial piety; and for having added, to the ufual graces of her fex, the more folid accomplishments of knowledge and polite letters. MALLET.


See her lov'd Lord with speechlefs anguish bend !
And, mixing tears with his, thy noblest friend,
Thy Pelham turn on heaven his streaming eye:
Again in her, he fees a brother die!


And he, who long, unshaken and serene, Had death, in each dire form of terror, feen, Through worlds unknown o'er unknown oceans teft,. By love fubdued, now weeps a confort loft: Now, funk to fondness, all the man appears, His front dejected, and his foul in tears!

Yet more nor thou the Mufe's voice difdain,
Who fondly tries to foothe a father's pain--
Let thy calm eye furvey the fuffering ball:
See kingdoms round thee verging to their fall!
What fpring had promis'd and what autumn yields,,
The bread of thousands, ravifh'd from their fields
See youth and age, th' ignoble and the great,
Swept to one grave, in one promifcuous fate!
Hear Europe groan! hear all her nations mourn !
And be a private wound with patience borne.
Think too and reafon will confirm the thought:
Thy cares, for her, are to their period brought.
Yes, fhe, fair pattern to a failing age,

With wit, chaftis'd, with fprightly temper, fage;
Whom each endearing name could recommend,
Whom all became, wife, fifter, daughter, friend,
Unwarp'd by folly, and by vice unftain'd,
The prize of virtue has, for ever, gain'd!
From life efcap'd, and fafe on that calm fhore
Where in and pain and error are no more,


She now no change, nor you no fear can feel :
Death, to her fame, has fix'd th' eternal feal!




E midnight shades, o'er Nature spread !
Dumb filence of the dreary hour!

In honour of th' approaching dead,
Around your awful terrors pour..

Yes, pour around,

On this pale ground,

Through all this deep furrounding gloom,
The fober thought,

The tear untaught,

Those meetest mourners at a tomb..


Lo! as the furplic'd train draw near
To this last manfion of mankind,

The flow fad bell, the fable bier,
In holy mufings wrap the mind !:
And while their beam,

With trembling stream,

Attending tapers faintly dart;

Each mouldering bone,

Each sculptor'd stone,

Strikes mute inftruction to the heart!

III. Now,

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