Great Milton's wing on lower themes fubfides,
And Dryden oft in rhyme his weakness hides;
You ne'er with jingling words deceive the ear,
And yet, on humble subjects, great appear.
Thrice happy youth, whom noble Ifis crowns!
Whom Blackmore cenfures, and Godolphin owns ::
So on the tuneful Margarita's tongue

The liftening nymphs and ravish'd heroes hung:
But cits and fops the Heaven-born mufic blame,
And bawl, and hifs, and damn her into fame;
Like her sweet voice, is thy harmonious fong,
As high, as fweet, as eafy, and as strong.

Oh! had relenting Heaven prolong'd his days,,
The towering bard had fung in nobler lays,
How the last trumpet wakes the lazy dead,
How faints aloft the cross triumphant spread ; :
How opening Heavens their happy regions show;
And yawning gulphs with flaming vengeance glow;
And faints rejoice above, and finners howl below:
Well might he fing the day he could not fear,
And paint the glories he was fure to wear.

Oh beft of friends, will ne'er the filent urn
To our juft vows the hapless youth return?
Muft he no more divert the tedious day ? ·
Nor fparkling thoughts in antique words convey?
No more to harmless irony descend,

To noify fools a grave attention lend,
Nor merry tales with learn'd quotations blend?

}

No

No more in falfe pathetic phrafe complain
Of Delia's wit, her charms, and her difdain?
Who now fhall godlike Anna's fame diffuse?
Muft fhe, when most the merits, want a Mufe?
Who now our Twyfden's glorious fate shall tell;
How lov'd he liv'd, and how deplor'd he fell ?
How, while the troubled elements around,
Earth, water, air, the stunning din refound;
Through ftreams of smoke, and adverse fire, he rides,
While every fhot is level'd at his fides?
How, while the fainting Dutch remotely fire,
And the fam'd Eugene's iron troops retire,
In the first front, amidst a slaughter'd pile,
High on the mound he dy'd near great Argyle.

Whom shall I find unbiass'd in dispute,
Eager to learn, unwilling to confute ?
To whom the labours of my foul disclose,
Reveal my pleasure, or discharge my woes?
Oh! in that heavenly youth for ever ends
The best of fons, of brothers, and of friends.
He facred Friendship's ftricteft laws obey'd,
Yet more by Conscience than by Friendship sway'd;
Against himself his gratitude maintain'd,

By favours paft, not future profpects gain'd:

Not nicely choosing, though by all defir'd,

Though learn'd, not vain; and humble, though admir'd:

Candid to all, but to himself fevere,

In humour pliant, as in life auftere.

A wife content his even soul secur'd,
By want not fhaken, nor by wealth allur'd.
To all fincere, though earnest to commend,
Could praise a rival, or condemn a friend.
To him old Greece and Rome were fully known,
Their tongues, their spirits, and their styles, his own:
Pleas'd the leaft fteps of famous men to view,

Our authors' works, and lives, and fouls, he knew ;
Paid to the learn'd and great the fame esteem,
The one his pattern, and the one his theme:
With equal judgment his capacious mind
Warm Pindar's rage, and Euclid's reafon join'd.
Judicious phyfic's noble art to gain

All drugs and plants explor'd, alas, in vain!
The drugs and plants their drooping mafter fail'd,
Nor goodness now, nor learning aught avail'd;
Yet to the bard his Churchill's foul they gave,
And made him fcorn the life they could not fave:

Elfe could he bear unmov'd, the fatal guest,
The weight that all his fainting limbs opprest,
The coughs that struggled from his weary breast?
Could he unmov'd approaching death sustain ?
Its flow advances, and its racking pain ?
Could he ferene his weeping friends furvey,
In his last hours his easy wit display,

Like the rich fruit he fings, delicious in decay?

Once on thy friends look down, lamented shade, And view the honours to thy ashes paid;

Some thy lov'd duft in Parian stones enshrine,
Others immortal epitaphs design,

With wit, and strength, that only yields to thine:
Ev'n I, though flow to touch the painful ftring,
Awake from flumber, and attempt to fing.
Thee, Philips, thee despairing Vaga mourns,
And gentle Ifis foft complaints returns ;
Dormer laments amidst the war's alarms,
And Cecil weeps in beauteous Tufton's arms :'
Thee, on the Po, kind Somerset deplores,
And ev❜n that charming scene his grief restores :
He to thy lofs each mournful air applies,
Mindful of thee on huge Taburnus lies,

But most at Virgil's tomb his fwelling forrows rife.

But you, his darling friends, lament no more,
Difplay his fame, and not his fate deplore;
And let no tears from erring pity flow,

For one that's blest above, immortaliz'd below.

CHARLETTUS

CHARLETTUS

PERCIVALLO

SUO.