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A POEM

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF

SIR IS A AC NEWTON.

Infcribed to the

RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.

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Adjufted to the mutual main, and taught
Why now the mighty mafs of water fwells
Refiftlefs, heaving on the broken rocks,
And the full river turning, till again ·
The tide revertive, unattracted, leaves.
A yellow waste of idle fands behind.
Then breaking hence, he took his ardent flight
Thro' the blue infinite, and every star
Which the clear concave of a winter's night
Pours on the eye or aftronomic tube,
Far-ftretching, fnatches from the dark abyfs,

Or fuch as farther in fucceffive skies
To Fancy fhine alone, at his approach

HALL the great foul of Newton "quit this Bláz'd into funs, the living centre each

SHALL

earth

To mingle with his stars, and every Mufe,
Aftonish'd into filence, fhun the weight
Of honours due to his illuftrious name?

But what can man?-E'en now the fons of Light,
In ftrains high warbled to feraphic lyre,
Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss.
Yet am not I deterr'd, tho' high the theme,
And fung to liarps of angels; for with you,
Ethereal Flames! ambitious, I afpire
In Nature's general fymphony to join.

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Of an harmonious system; all combin'd,
And rul'd unerring, by that fingle power
Which draws the tone projected to the ground.
O unprofufe Magnificence divine!

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510 Wisdom truly perfect! thus to call
From a few caufes fuch a fcheme of things,
Effects fo various, beautiful, and great,
An univerfe complete! and, O belov'd
Of Heaven! whofe well-purg'd penetrative eye-
The myftic veil tranfpiercing, inly feann'd
The riling, moving, wide-eftablish'd frame.

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And what new wonders can ye fhow your guest?
Who, while on this dim fpot, where mortals toil,
Clouded in duft, from Motion's fimple laws
Could trace the fecret hand of Providence,
Wide-working thro' this univerfal frame.

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He, first of men, with awful wing purfu'd
The Comet thro' the long elliptic curve,
As round innumerous worlds he wound his way,
Till to the forehead of our evening iky
Return'd, the blazing wonder glares anew,
And o'er the trembling nations fhakes dilmay.
The heavens are all his own, from the wild rule
Of whirling vortices and circling fpheres.
20To their firft great fimplicity restor❜d.
was The Schools attonish'd stood, but found it vain
To combat ftill with demonftration strong,
And, unawaken'd, dream beneath the blaze
Of Truth. At once their pleasing visions fled,
With the gay fhadows of the morning inix'd,
When Newton rofe, our philofophic fun.

Have ye not liften'd while he 'bound the Suns And Planets to their spheres! th' unequal task Of human-kind till then. Oft had they roll'd O'er erring man the year, and oft' difgrac'd The pride of schools, before their courfe known

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Full in its caufes and effects to him,
All-piercing fage! who fat not down, and dream'd
Romantic schemes, defended by the din
Of fpecious words and tyranny of names,
But, bidding his amazing Mind attend,
And with heroic Patience years on years
Deep-fearching, faw at laft the System dawn,
And fhine, of all his race, on him alone.
What were his raptures then! how pure! how
ftrong!
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And what the triumphs of old Greece and Rome,
By his diminifh'd, but the pride of boys
In fome fmall fray victorious! when, instead
Of thatter'd parcels of this earth ufurp'd

By violence unmanly, and fore deeds
Of cruelty and blood, Nature herfelf
Stood all fubdu'd by him, and open laid
Her every latent glory to his view.

All intellectual eye! our folar round
First gazing thro', he, by the blended power
Of Gravitation and Projection, faw
The whole in filent harmony revolve;
From unaflifted vifion hid, the Moons,
To cheer remoter planets numerous form'd,
By him in all their mingled tracts were feen.
He alfo fix'd our wandering Queen of Night,
Whether the wanes into a fcanty orb,

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To the charm'd eye educ'd the gorgeous train
Of parent-colours. First the flaming Red
Sprung vivid forth; the tawny Orange next;
And next delicious Yellow; by whofe fide
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing Green:
40 Then the pure Blue, that fwells autumnal skies,
Ethereal play'd; and then, of fadder hue,
Emerg'd the deepened Indico, as when

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The heavy-kirted evening droops with frost;
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Dy'd in the fainting Violet away.

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Thefe, when the clouds diftil the rofy fhower,
Shine out diftinct adown the wat'ty bow,
While o'er our heads the dewy vilion bends
Delightful, melting on the fields beneath.
Myriads of mingling dyes from these result,

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And myriads ftill remain; infinite fource
Of beauty, ever-fufhing, ever-new!

Did ever poet image aught so fair, Dreaming in whispering groves by the hoarfe brook!

Or prophet, to whofe rapture Heaven defcends! 121

E'en now the fetting fun and fhifting clouds,
Seen, Greenwich, from thy lovely heights, declare
How juft, how beauteous the refractive law.
The noiseless tide of time, all bearing down 125
To vaft eternity's unbounded sea,
Where the green iflands of the happy shine,
He ftemm'd alone, and to the fource (involv'd
Deep in primeval gloom) afcending, rais'd
His lights at equal diftances, to guide
Hiftorian, wilder'd on his darkfome way.

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But who can number up his labours? who
His high difcoveries fing? when but a few
Of the deep-studying race can fretch their minds
To what he knew? In Fancy's lighter thought,
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How shall the Muse then grasp the mighty theme?
What wonder, thence, that his devotion fwell'd
Refpontive to his knowledge! For could he,
Whole piercing niental eye diffusive faw
The finish'd university of things
In all its order, magnitude, and parts,
Forbear inceffant to adore that Power
Who fills, fuftains, and actuates the whole?
Say, ye who beft can tell, ye happy few!
Who faw him in the fofteft lights of life,
All unwithheld, indulging to his friends
The vaft unborrow'd treafures of his mind,
Oh, fpeak the wondrous Man! how mild, how
calm,

How greatly humble, how divinely good;
How firm eftablish'd on eternal truth;
Fervent in doing well, with every nerve
Still preffing on, forgetful of the past,
And panting for perfection; far above
Thofe little cares and vifionary joys
That fo perplex the fond impaflion'd heart
Of ever-cheated, ever-trufting man.

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And you, yehopeless, gloomy-minded Tribe! You who, unconscious of thofe nobler flights That reach impatient at immortal life, Against the prime endearing privilege Of being dare contend, tay, can a foul Of fuch extenfive, deep, tremendous powers, Enlarging till, be but a finier breath Of spirits dancing thro' their tubes a while, And then for ever loft in vacant air? But hark! methinks i hear a warning voice, Solemn as when fome awful change is come, Sound thro' the world-Tis done---The mea "fure's full;

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"And I refign my charge."-Ye mouldering Stones!

That build the towering pyramid, the proud 170
Triumphal arch, the monument effac'd'
By ruthlefs tuin, and whate'er fupports
The worthipp'd name of hear Antiquity,
Down to the dust! what grandeur can ye boaft,
While Newton lifts his column to the fkies, 175
Beyond the wafts of time? Let no weak drep

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Sitteft in dread difcourfe, or fellow-bleft,
Who joy to fee the honour of their kind;
Or whether, mounted on cherubic wing,
Thy fwift career is with the whirling orbs,
Comparings things with things, in rapture loft,
And grateful adoration, for that light
So plenteous ray'd into thy mind below,
From Light himself; Oh! look with pity down
On human-kind, a frail, erroneous race!
Exalt the fpirit of a downward world!
O'er thy dejected Country chief prefide,
And be her Genius call'd! her fludies raife,
Correct her manners, and inspire her youth:
For, tho' deprav'd and funk, the brought ther
forth,

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A friend and father loft, permit the Mufe,
The Mufe affign'd of old a double theme,
To praife dead worth, and humble living pride, 5
Whofe generous task begins where int'relt ends;
Permit her on a Talbot's tomb to lay
This cordial verfe fincere, by Truch infpir'd,
Which means not to bestow, but borrow fame.
Yes, the may fing his matchlefs virtues now-
Unhappy that he may.But where begin?
How from the diamond fingle out each ray,
Where all, tho' trembling with ten thoufand hues,
Effuse one dazzling undivided light? '

Let the low-minded of thefe narrow days
No more prefame to deem the lofty tale

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Of ancient times, in pity to
their own,
Romance. In Talbot we united faw
The piercing eye, the quick-enlighten'd foul,
The graceful cafe, the flowing tongue of Greece,
Join'd to the virtues and the force of Rome, 20

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Eternal Wifdom, that all-quick'ning fun,
Whence every life, in just proportion, draws
Directing light, and actuating flame,
Ne'er with a larger portion of its beams
Awaken'd mortal clay. Hence fteady, calm,
Diffufive, deep, and clear, his reafon faw,
With inftantaneous view, the truth of things;
Chief what to human life and human blifs
Pertains, that nobleft fcience, fit for man;
And hence, refponfive to his knowledge, glow'd
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His ardent virtue. Ignorance and vice
In confort foul agree, each heightening each,
While virtue draws from knowledge brighter fire.
What grand, what comely, or what tender
fenfe,

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What talent, or what virtue, was not his?
What that can render man or great or good,
Give ufeful worth or amiable grace?
Nor could be brook in ftudious fhade, to lie,
In foft retirement, indolently pleas'd
With felfish peace. The Siren of the wife,
(Who fteals th' Aonian fong, and in the shape
Of Virtue wooes them from a worthless world,)
Tho' deep he felt her charms, could never melt
His itrenuous fpirit, recollected, calm
As filent Night, yet active as the day..
The more the bold, the bustling, and the bad,
Prefs to ufurp the reins of power, the more,
Behoves it Virtue, with indignant zeal,
To check their combination. Shall low views
Of Ineaking int'reft, or luxurious vice,
The villain's paffions, quicken more to toil,
And dart a livelier vigour thro' the foul,
Than thofe that, mingled with our trueft good,
With prefent honour, and immortal fame
Involve the good of all? An empty form
Is the weak virtue that amid the shade
Lamenting lies, with future fchemes amus'd,
While Wickednefs and Folly, kindred powers,
Confound the world. A Talbot's, different far,
Sprung ardent into action, that difdain'd
To lofe in death-like floth one pulse of life
That might be fav'd; difdain'd, for coward Eafe
And her infipid pleasures, to refign
The prize of glory, the keen fweets of toil,

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Of human-kind. For that he, fervent, felt
The throb of patriots when they model fates; 80
Anxious for that, nor needful fleep could hold
His ftill-awaken'd foul; nor friends had charms
To steal, with pleafing guile, one ufeful hour;
Toil knew no languor, no attraction joy.
Thus with upwearied fteps, by Virtue led,
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He gain'd the fummit of that facred hill
Where, rais'd above black Envy's dark'ning clouds,
Her fpotlefs temple lifts its radiant front.
Be nam'd, victorious Ravagers! no more;
Vanifh, ye human Comets! fhrink your blaze, 95
Ye that your glory to your terrors owe,
As o'er the gazing defolated earth

| Ye featter famine, peftilence, and war!
Vanish before this vernal fun of Fame :
Effulgent fweetness! beaming life and joy.

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How the heart liften'd while he pleading spoke!
While on the enlighten'd mind, with winning art,
His gentle reason so persuasive stole,
That the charm'd hearer thought it was his own.
Ah! when, ye ftudious of the laws! again
Shall fuch enchanting leffons blefs your car?
When fhall again the darkest truths, perplext,
Be fet in ample day? when fhall the harsh
And arduous open into finiling ease?
The folid mix with elegant delight?
His was the talent, with the pureft light
At once to pour conviction on the foul,

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And warm with lawful flame th' impaflion'd

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In a fuperior sphere of cloudless day,
A pure intelligence. No tumult there,
No dark emotion, no intempʼrate heat,
No paffion e'er difturb'd the clear ferene
That round him fpread. A zeal for right alone, `

And thofe high joys that teach the truly great 65 The love of justice, like the steady fun,
To live for others, and for others die.

Larly, behold! he breaks benign on life.
Not breathing more beneficenco, the Spring
Leads in her fwelling train the gentle Airs;
While gay, behind her, fmiles the kindling walle

Of ruffian ftorms and winter's lawless rage.
In him Aftræa, to this dim, abode
Of ever-wandering men, return'd again;
To bless them his delight, to bring them back,
From thorny error, from unjoyous wrong,
Into the paths of kind primeval faith,

Of happiness and juftice. All his parts,
His virtues all, collected, fought the good

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Its equal ardour lent; and fometimes rais'd
Against the fons of Violence, of Pride,
And bold Deceit, his indignation gleam'd,
Yet ftill by fober dignity restrain'd.
As intuition quick, he fnatch'd the truth,
Yet with progreffive patience, step by step,
Self-diffident, or to the flower kind,

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He thro' the maze of falsehood trac'd it on,
Till, at the laft, evolv'd, it full appear'd,
And e'en the loser own'd the just decree.
But when, in fenates, he, to freedom firm,
Enlighten'd freedom, plann'd falubrious laws,
His various learning, his wide knowledge, then,
His infight deep into Britannia's weal, 140

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Spontaneous feem'd from fimple fenfe to flow,
And the plain patriot smooth'd the brow of law.
No fpecious fwell, no frothy pomp of words,
Fell on the cheated ear: no study'd maze
Of declamation, to perplex the right,
He darkening threw around: fafe in itself,"
In its own force, all powerful Reason fpoke;
While on the great, the ruling point, at once
He stream'd decifive day, and fhow'd it vain
To lengthen farther out the clear debate.
Conviction breathes conviction; to the heart,
Four'd ardent forth in eloquence unbid,
The heart attends; for let the venal try
Their every hard'ning ftupifying art,
Truth must prevail, zeal will enkindle zeal,
And Nature, skilful touch'd, is honeft ftill.

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And where the plain unguarded foul is seen.'
There, with that trueft greatnefs he appear'd, 205
Which thinks not of appearing; kindly veil'd
In the foft graces of the friendly fcene,
Infpiring focial confidence and eafe:
As free the converfe of the wife and good,
As joyous, difentangling every power,
And breathing mix'd improvement with delight,
As when amid the various-bloffom'd fpring,
Or gentle-beaming autumn's penfive fhade,
The philofophic mind with Nature talks.
Say ye, his Sons! his dear Remains! with whom
The father laid fuperfluous ftate afide,
155 Yet rais'd your filial duty thence the more,
With friendship rais'd it, with esteem, with love.
Beyond the tics of blood, oh! fpeak the joy,
The pure ferene, the cheerful wisdom mild, 229
The virtuous fpirit, which his vacant hours,
160 In femblance of amufement, thro' the breaft
Infus'd. And thou, O Rundle! lend thy ftrain,
Thou darling friend! thou brother of his foul!
In whom the head and heart their ftores unite;
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Whatever fancy paints, Invention pours,
Judgment digefts, the well-tun'd bofom feels,
Truth natural, moral, or divine, has taught,
The Virtues dictate, or the Mufes fing."
Lend me the plaint which to the lonely main,
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Behold him in the councils of his prince,
What faithful light he lends! How rare, in courts,
Such wifdom! fuch abilities and, join'd
To virtue fo determin'd, public zeal,
And honour of fuch adamantime proof,
As e'en Corruption, hopeless, and o'eraw'd,
Durft not have tempted! Yet of manners mild,
And winning every heart, he knew to pleafe,"
Nobly to please; while equally he fcorn'd
Or adulation to receive or give.
Happy the state where wakes a ruling eye
Of fuch infpection keen, and general care!
Beneath a guard fo vigilant, fo pure;
Toil may refign his carelefs head to reft,
And ever-jealous Freedom fleep in peace.
Ah! loft untimely! loft in downward days!
And many a patriot counfel with him loft!
Counfels that might have humbled Britain's foe,
Her native foe, from eldest time by Fate
Appointed, as did once a Talbot's arms.

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With Memory converfing, you will pour,
As on the pebbled there you, pensive, ftray,
Where Derry's mountains a bleak crefcent form,
And mid their ample round receive the waves,
That, from the frozen Pole refounding, rufh 235
Impetuous. Tho' from native funshine driven,
Driven from your friends, the funshine of the foul
By flanderous Zeal, and politics infirm,
Jealous of worth, yet will you bless your lot,
180 Yet will you triumph in your glorious fate, 240
Whence Talbot's friendship glows to future times,
Intrepid, warm; of kindred tempers born;
Nurs'd, by experience, into flow esteem,
Calm confidence unbounded, love not blind,
And the fweet light from mingled minds difclos'd,
From mingled chymic oils as burfts the fire. 246
I, too, remember well that cheerful bowle
Which round his table flow'd. The ferious there
Mix'd with the sportive, with the learn'd the
plain;

Let Learning, Arts, let univerfal Worth,
Lament à patron lost, a friend and judge.
Unlike the fons of Vanity, that, veil'd
Beneath the patron's prostituted name,
Bare facrifice a worthy man to pride,
And flufh confusion o'er an honeft cheek.
When he conferr'd a grace, it feem'd a debt
Which he to merit, to the public, paid, -
And to the great all-bounteous Source of good.

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His fympathifing heart itfelf receiv'd
The generous obligation he beftow'd.
This, this indeed, is patronifing worth.
Their kind protector him the Mules own,
But fcorn with noble pride the boasted aid
of taftelefs Vanity's infulting hard. ~
The gracious ftream that cheers the letter'd world,
not the noify gift of fummer's noon,
Whofe fudden current from her naked root
Wathes the little foil which yet remain'd,
And only more dejects the blufhing flowers:
No, 'tis the foft-defcending dews at eve,
The filent treafures of the vernal year,
indulging deep their ftores the ftill night long,
Till, with returning morn, the freshen'd world
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I fragrance all, all beauty, joy, and fong.
Still let me view him in the pleafing light
G£ private life, where pomp forgets to glare,

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Mirth foften'd wifdom, candour temper'd mirth, 259

And wit its honey lent, without the fling.
Not fimple Nature's unaffected fons,

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The blamelefs Indians, round their foreft cheer,
In funny lawn or fhady covert fet,
Hold more unspotted converfe; nor of old,
Rome's awful confuls, her dictator-fwains,
As on the product of their Sabine farms
They far'd, with flricter virtue fed the foul:
Nor yet in Athens, at an Attic meal,
Where Socrates prefided, fairer truth,
More elegant humanity, more grace,

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* Dr. Rundle, late Bishop of Derry in Ireland.

Wit more refin'd, or deeper science, reign'd.
But, far beyond the little vulgar bounds
Of family, or friends, or native land,
By just degrees, and with proportion'd flame, 265
Extended his benevolence; a friend

To human-kind, to parent Nature's works.
Of free access, and of engaging grace,

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Such as a brother to a brother owes,
He kept an open judging ear for all,
And fpread an open countenance, where fmil'd
The fair effulgence of an open heart;
While on the rich, the poor, the high, the low,
With equal ray, his ready goodness shone:
For nothing human foreign was to him.

Thus to a dread inheritance, my Lord,
And hard to be fupported, you fucceed;
But, kept by virtue, as by virtue gain'd,
It will, thro' latest time, enrich your race,

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Of prejudice and error) mingled now,
In one felected never-jarring state,
Where God himself their only monarch reigns,
Partake the joy; yet, fuch the sense that still
Remains of earthly woes, for us below,
And for our lofs, they drop a pitying tear.
But ceafe, prefumptuous Muse! nor vainly strive
To quit this cloudy sphere that binds thee down;
"Tis not for mortal hand to trace thefe fcenes,
Scenes that our grofs ideas grovelling caft

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When groffer wealth fhall moulder into duft, 280 Behind, and ftrike our boldest language dumb.

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Of mean fubmiffion, not the meed of worth.
True genuine honour its large patent holds
Of all mankind, thro' ev'ry land and age,
Of univerfal Reafon's various fons,
And e'en of God himself, fole perfect Judge!
Yet know these nobleft honours of the mind
On rigid terms defcend: the high-plac'd heir,
Scann'd by the public eye, that, with keen

Malignant feeks out faults, cannot thro' life,
Amid the nameless infects of a court,
Unheeded fteal; but, with his fire compar'd,
He must be glorious, or he must be scorn'd.
1 his truth to you, who merit well to bear
A name to Britons dear, th' officious Mufe
May fafely fing, and fing without reserve.

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gaze,
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Forgive, immortal Shade ! if aught from earth,
From duft low-warbled, to thofe groves can rife,
Where flows celestial harmony, forgive
This fond fuperfluous verfe. With deep-felt voice,
On every heart imprefs'd, thy deeds themfelves
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Atteft thy praise. Thy praise the widows' fighs
And orphans' tears embalm. The good, the bad,
The fons of Juftice, and the fons of Strife,
All who or freedom or who interest prize,
A deep-divided nation's parties all

Confpire to fwell thy fpotlefs praise to heaven.
Glad heaven receives it, and feraphic lyres
With fungs of triumph thy arrival hail.

How vain this tribute, then! this lowly lay!

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Yet nought is vain which gratitude infpires. 355
The Mufe, befides, her duty thus approves
To virtue, to her country, to mankind,

Vain were the plaint, and ignorant the tear,
That should a Talbot mourn. Ourfelves, indeed, To ruling Nature, that, in glorious charge,
Our country robb'd of her delight and strength,As to her priestess, gives it her, to hymn
300 Whatever good and excellent the forms.

We may lament: yet let us, grateful, joy
That we fuch virtues knew, fuch virtues felt,
And feel them ftill, teaching our views to rife
Thro' ever-bright'ning fcenes of future worlds.
Be dumb, ye worst of Zealots! ye that, prone
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To thoughtless duft, renounce that generous hope,
Whence every joy below its fpirit draws,
And every pain is balm. A Talbot's light,
A Talbot's virtues, claim another fource
Than the blind maze of undefigning blood; 310
Nor when that vital fountain plays no more,
Can they be quench'd amid the gelid stream.

Methinks I fee his mounting fpiri', freed
From tangling earth, regain the realms of day,
Its native country, whence, to blefs mankind, 315
Eternal Goodness on this darkfome spot
Had ray'd it down awhile. Behold! approv'd
By the tremendous Judge of heaven and earth,
And to th' Almighty Father's prefence jin'd,
He takes his rank, in glory and in blifs,
Amid the human worthies. Glad around

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POEMS

ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

VERSES

Occafioned by the

DEATH OF MR. AIKMAN,

A PARTICULAR FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR'S.

A

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S those we love decay, we die in part;
String after string is fever'd from the heart,
Till loofen'd life, at last, but, breathing clay,

Crowd his compatriot fhades, and point him out, Without one pang is glad to fall away.

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