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Passion and pride were to her soul unknown,
Convinced that virtue only is our own.

So unaffected, so composed a mind;
So firm, yet soft; so strong, yet so refined;
Heaven, as its purest gold, by tortures tried;
The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.

VII. ON THE MONUMENT OF THE HONOURABLE ROBERT DIGBY, AND HIS SISTER MARY.

ERECTED BY THEIR FATHER THE LORD DIGBY, IN THE CHURCH OF SHERBORNE, IN DORSETSHIRE, 1727.

Go! fair example of untainted youth,
Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth :
Composed in sufferings, and in joy sedate,
Good without noise, without pretension great.
Just of thy word, in every thought sincere,

Who knew no wish but what the world might hear:
Of softest manners, unaffected mind,

Lover of peace, and friend of human kind :
Go live! for Heaven's eternal year is thine,1
Go, and exalt thy moral to divine.

And thou, bless'd maid! attendant on his doom,
Pensive hast follow'd to the silent tomb,

Steer'd the same course to the same quiet shore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more!
Go then, where only bliss sincere is known!
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one!

Yet take these tears, Mortality's relief,

And till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
These little rites, a stone, a verse receive;

'Tis all a father, all a friend can give!

Heaven's eternal year is thine:' borrowed from Dryden's poem on Mrs Killigrew.

VIII. ON SIR GODFREY KNELLER, IN WESTMINSTER
ABBEY, 1723.

KNELLER, by Heaven, and not a master, taught,
Whose art was Nature, and whose pictures Thought;
Now for two ages having snatch'd from Fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crown'd with princes' honours, poets' lays,
Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise.

Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie
Her works; and, dying, fears herself may die.

IX. ON GENERAL HENRY WITHERS, IN WESTMINSTER
ABBEY, 1729.

HERE, Withers, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind,
Thy country's friend, but more of human kind.
Oh, born to arms! oh, worth in youth approved!
Oh, soft humanity, in age beloved!

For thee the bardy veteran drops a tear,
And the gay courtier feels the sigh sincere.

Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial spirit, or thy social love!
Amidst corruption, luxury, and rage,
Still leave some ancient virtues to our age:
Nor let us say (those English glories gone)
The last true Briton lies beneath this stone.

X. ON MR ELIJAH FENTON,1 AT EASTHAMSTEAD, IN BERKS, 1730.

THIS modest stone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly say, Here lies an honest man :

''Fenton: Pope's joint-translator of Homer's Odyssey. See Johnson's 'Lives of the Poets.'

A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate,

Whom Heaven kept sacred from the proud and great :
Foe to loud praise, and friend to learnèd ease,

Content with science in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on either life, and here

Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied,

Thank'd Heaven that he had lived, and that he died.

XI. ON MR GAY, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 1732.

OF manners gentle, of affections mild;
In wit, a man; simplicity, a child :

With native humour tempering virtuous rage,
Form'd to delight at once and lash the age:
Above temptation in a low estate,
And uncorrupted, even among the great:
A safe companion, and an easy friend,
Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end.
These are thy honours! not that here thy bust
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust;
But that the worthy and the good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms-Here lies Gay.

XII. INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON, IN WESTMINSTER

ABBEY.

ISAACUS NEWTONUS:

QUEM IMMORTALEM

TESTANTUR TEMPUS, NATURA, CŒLUM :

MORTALEM

HOC MARMOR FATETUR.

NATURE and Nature's laws lay hid in night
God said, Let Newton be! and all was light.

XIII. ON DR FRANCIS ATTERBURY,1 BISHOP OF ROCHESTER,

WHO DIED IN EXILE AT PARIS, 1732.

SHE.

YES, we have lived-one pang, and then we part!
May Heaven, dear father! now have all thy heart.
Yet ah! how once we loved, remember still,
Till you are dust like me.

HE.

Dear shade! I will:

Then mix this dust with thine-O spotless ghost!
O more than fortune, friends, or country lost!
Is there on earth one care, one wish beside ?
Yes-Save my country, Heaven!

-He said, and died.

XIV. ON EDMUND DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, WHO DIED IN THE NINETEENTH YEAR OF HIS AGE, 1735.

IF modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd,
And every opening virtue blooming round,
Could save a parent's justest pride from fate,
Or add one patriot to a sinking state;
This weeping marble had not ask'd thy tear,
Or sadly told how many hopes lie here!
The living virtue now had shone approved,
The senate heard him, and his country loved.
Yet softer honours, and less noisy fame
Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham :

'His only daughter expired in his arms, immediately after she arrived in France to see him.

In whom a race, for courage famed and art,
Ends in the milder merit of the heart;
And chiefs or sages long to Britain given,
Pays the last tribute of a saint to Heaven.

XV. FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN
WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

HEROES and kings! your distance keep:
In peace let one poor poet sleep,
Who never flatter'd folks like you:
Let Horace blush, and Virgil too.

XVI. ANOTHER, ON THE SAME.

UNDER this marble, or under this sill,
Or under this turf, or e'en what they will;
Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead,
Or any good creature shall lay o'er my head,
Lies one who ne'er cared, and still cares not a pin
What they said, or may say, of the mortal within :
But who, living and dying, serene still and free,
Trusts in God, that as well as he was, he shall be.

XVII. ON TWO LOVERS STRUCK DEAD BY LIGHTNING.1

WHEN Eastern lovers feed the funeral fire,
On the same pile the faithful pair expire.
Here pitying Heaven that virtue mutual found,
And blasted both, that it might neither wound.

1 Lady Mary Montague wrote a rejoinder to this poem, in a caustic, sneering vein.

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