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Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne.

Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,

Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."

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Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth,

A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,

And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

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Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;

Heaven did a recompense as largely send:

He gave to Misery all he had-a tear;

He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend

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