Peace guard their dust!

crown!

-their merits Glory

Too far their worth transports the roving Muse, Who kindles at the tale of old Renown,

Nor dares the Strain to Liberty refuse.

And now-farewell, ye Walls, ye Roofs sublime,
Ye lengthening Choirs, a venerable gloom!

And when, like you, your Poet bows to Time,
In yon dim Cloister yield his ashes room!

His hopes ne'er rose to emulate the Dead,

Whose dear-bought trophies crowd the venal Fane, Where sculptur'd MARS may wreath the Coward's head,

Or TRUTH's bright form o'er perjur'd dust complain.

Midst Life's gay Scenes your calm Retreats he lov❜d, Your wrested pomp his artless numbers mourn, Where led, by choice, his pensive footsteps rov'd, May Friendship place, and you protect his urn!

Could aught yet more endear your circling Wood,
It is ARDELIA! unconstrain'd and free,
That here, reflecting on Life's sum of good,

My breast first heav'd an anxious sigh for Thee!

You too, YE FAIR, of neighb'ring scenes the grace (Whose envy'd praise the Bard advent'rous seeks,) Once deign to visit this sequester'd place,

Instruction's voice amidst the Ruin speaks!

Whence claim they praise, these piles which strewn on Earth

(A steril burthen) mock their former state?

'Tis from remembrance of their youthful Worth ;— They once were beautiful!-they once were great!

Those Charms alone survive that deck the Heart, Command respect which growing years increase, Bloom when the Roses from the Cheek depart, And ebbing Life's tumultuous raptures cease!

Forgive the Muse, if with presumptuous love
She wooes your ears t' attend her moral Lay;
Lest faithless to themselves your pleasures prove,
And useless time steal unimprov'd away!

For know, your bosoms feed a Flame as bright
As cheers a dying CATO's latest hour;
A youthful AмMON warms to lead the fight,
Or lights a JULIUS to the goal of pow'r !

Oh! trust not then the force of radiant Eyes,

Those short-liv'd glories of your sportive band,— Pleas'd with its Stars, though laughing Morn arise A steadier beam Meridian Skies demand!

Reflect, ere (Victor of each lovely Frame)

TIME bids th' external, fleeting Graces fade, 'Tis Reason's Base supports the noblest Claim, 'Tis Sense preserves the Conquests Beauty made!

ELEGY V.

WRITTEN AMONG THE TOMBS JN

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

HAIL, hallow'd Fane! amid whose mould'ring shrines,
Her vigils musing Melancholy keeps,

Upon her arm her harrow'd cheek reclines,
And o'er the spoils of human grandeur weeps.

Hail, awful edifice! thine isles along,

In contemplation wrapt, O let me stray ! And stealing from the idly busy throng, Serenely meditate the moral lay.

Far hence be banish'd every note profane,

Where heav'n-inspir'd Devotion loves to raise
Her voice seraphic to each lofty strain,
Attun'd to celebrate Jehovah's praise.

Come, heavenly muse, awake the plaintive string,
Each vagrant motion of the mind control;
Exalt my fancy on thy soaring wing,

And with thy pathos pure possess my soul.

What pleasing sadness fills my thoughtful breast, Whene'er my steps these vaulted mansions trace; Where in their silent tombs for ever rest

The honor'd ashes of the British race!

What eye can read without a starting tear,
What heart reflect without a pensive sigh,
On the same story, every marble here
Relates of wretched man's mortality ?

Here terminate Ambition's airy schemes,
The syren Pleasure here allures no more;
Here grov❜ling Av'rice drops her golden dreams,
And Life's fantastic trifles all are o'er.

No furious passions here the bosom rend,
Here the true mourner's poignant sorrows cease;
Here hopeless love and cruel hatred end,

And the world-weary trav❜ler rests in peace.

Approach, vain child of fortune, pow'r and fame,
Here learn a lesson from each speaking bust:
Lo! on each tomb engrav'd the empty name
Of worldly greatness levell'd in the dust!

How high each pers'nage once, how honor'd! read; How low! how little now, look down and see! Then scan thyself-and know it is decreed,

That thou as little and as low shalt be.