"That they were wife !" th' inspired Penman
When for his people his last wish he made;
He breath'd it out, and Nature's will obey'd.
But what is wifdom? It we cannot find
To fpeculations critical confin'd:
Refearches into Nature cannot fhow,
Nor history entire this gift beftow.
In his next aspiration the divine
Lawgiver fays, "that this they would define !"
That they had apprehenfions to difcern
Their fpiritual welfare, and their foul's concern!
That they had eyes, and wifh'd things to purfue,
From which their peace eternal would enfue!
How can the race of mortals, poor and mean,
Knowledge fo infinitely rich attain?
I send them not, the rev'rend Teacher faid,
To read the works of all alive or dead;
By thinking of their latter end they can
This awful fcience with lefs trouble fcan.
This fpark of Heav'n is very often loft,
By glitt'ring pomp of erudition croft ;
But fhines moft evidently in the gloom,
And dreary habitations of the tomb.
Drown'd is this gentle whisper in life's cares,
Amidst the noise of fecular affairs;
But in retirement moft diftin&ly speaks,
And for its dwelling contemplation takes.
Behold how providentially I'm brought
To wifdom's school, fo worthy to be fought!
A very faithful mafter is the grave,
And these tombstone's inftructive leffons leave.
Come, calm attention! and my thoughts compofe!
And heav'nly fpirit! bless what you difclofe!
That fo these awful pages I may read,
As to falvation to grow wife" indeed!
Searching mortality's records, I found
That with memorials they did abound.
Of numbers who, promifcuoufly here,
Had bid adieu to earthly joy and fear.
Huddled they were, and did together lie,
Of rank regardless, or feniority.
Within this house of mourning, for chief seats,
Or for the higheft rooms, were no debates.
On eager expectations none here dwell,
Of being honor'd in their darkfome cell.
Men of experience and years who, when
They liv'd, were oracles to other men;
At feet of babes contented were to fleep,
And here uninterrupted filence keep;
Masters and fervants, with like ornaments
Were clad, who lodg'd in these cold tenements;
The poor as foundly flept, as foftly lay,
As the poffeffor opulent and gay.
All the distinction that in them I found,
A graffy hillock was, with ofiers bound,
Or fepulchres with imagery crown'd.
Why, faid my working thoughts, fhould we comFor rank or precedence, as things fo vain; [plain Since equal meannefs is each perfon's fate,
When this is changed to another state?
Why fhould we, then, exalt ourselves fo high,
Or debase others for their poverty;
Since we must all, on our allotted day,
In common mix, in undistinguish'd clay?
Oh! that this cogitation might pull down
The pride of other people, and my own;
And our imagination fink as low,
As our frail dwellings must in short time bow!
Among these relics, doubtlefs, we will find
Ajarring int'reft, and difcordant mind;
But like fome able dayfman, Death has laid
On the contending parties hands, and made
Their former variances all obey,
And to an amicable end give way.
Here those who, living, were at enmity,
By Death are brought to dwell in unity.
Here all embitter'd thoughts they drop, nor know
The fmalleft difference 'twixt friend and foe.
Perhaps their crumbling bones together all
Unite in common, as they mouldring fall,
Those who were filled with invet'rate hate,
And for each other ills did meditate;
Here to their quarrels put a peaceful end,
And friendly in the grave together blend.
O! that these afhes would fuch counsel give,
That we together might in friendship live;
Refentment's fever from our minds erafe,
Nor fuffer paffion's fierceness to increase ;
Mindlefs of injuries, and free from strife,
To pass the thorny road of human life;
That no more variance the quick might dread,
Than's in the congregation of the dead!
But I fuch general remarks fufpend,
And to particular my thoughts now bend.
Yonder white ftone doth evidently fhow An emblem of the innocence below; And tells each paffenger, that underneath A tender infant lies, confign'd to Death, When it had scarce receiv'd the gift of breath. There lies the peaceful infant, without pain, Nor knows what labor and vexation mean; There it lies quiet," with no care opprefs'd, It fleeps profoundly ftill, and is at reft."
When in the right'ous laver of the LORD,
It was to fecond, fpotlefs birth reftor'd;
Regenerated, 'twould no longer stay,
When its impurities were wafh'd away;
But, bound for Heav'n, ftretched out its callow
And took a speedy leave of earthly things.
What did the little fojourner, then, find,
So hateful and disgusting 'mongst mankind;
That it fo foon to leave them was difpos'd,
And on the world its eyes for ever clos'd?
Its Saviour would not drink, before he dy'd,
When he the vinegar and gall had try’d.
And had our new-come stranger to its lip
The cup of life rais'd, and begun to fip;
But, when the bitter potion it had prov'd,
Refus'd the draught, and straight its head remov'd?
Was this the reason that the babe so shy,
Look'd on the light with a scarce open'd eye;
Then did to more inviting regions haste,
The fweets of undisturb'd repofe to taste?
O happy Voyager! who, launch'd abroad,
Directly to the with'd-for haven rode!
More happy they, who, by the billows toft,
The dang rous tempefts of the world have crofs'd,
And to fafe harbours have at last attain❜d,
By many forms and grievous troubles gain'd!
Who" thro' various tribulations driv'n,
Have enter'd finally the port of Heav'n;"
To their convoy divine have bliss fecur'd,
And to their fellow-toilers joy procur'd;
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