Give them, as much as mortal eyes can bear,
A tranfient view of thy full glories there;
That they with moderate forrow may sustain
And mollify their losses in thy gain.
Or else divide the grief; for such thou wert,
That should not all relations bear a part,
It were enough to break a fingle heart.

1

Let this suffice: nor thou, great faint, refuse
This humble tribute of no vulgar Muse:
Who, not by cares, or wants, or age deprest,
Stems a wild deluge with a dauntless breast;
And dares to fing thy praises in a clime
Where vice triumphs, and virtue is a crime,
Where ev'n to draw the picture of thy mind,
Is fatire on the most of human kind:
Take it, while yet 'tis praise; before my rage,
Unfafely just, break loose on this bad age;
So bad, that thou thyself hadst no defence
From vice, but barely by departing hence.

}

Be what and where thou art: to wish thy place, Were, in the best, presumption more than grace. Thy relicks (fuch thy works of mercy are)

Have, in this poem, been my holy care.

As earth thy body keeps, thy foul the sky,

So shall this verse preserve thy memory;

For thou shalt make it live, because it fings of thee.

}

On

'T

V.

On the Death of AMYNTAS. A Pastoral Elegy.

WAS on

a joyless and a gloomy morn,

Wet was the grass, and hung with pearls the

thorn;

When Damon, who design'd to pass the day
With hounds and horns, and chace the flying prey,

Rofe early from his bed; but foon he found

The welkin pitch'd with fullen clouds around,
An eastern wind, and dew upon the ground.

}

Thus while he stood, and fighing did furvey
The fields, and curst th' ill omens of the day,
He saw Menalcas come with heavy pace;
Wet were his eyes, and chearless was his face :
He wrung his hands, distracted with his care,
And fent his voice before him from afar.
Return, he cry'd, return, unhappy swain,
The spungy clouds are fill'd with gathering rain :
The promise of the day not only cross'd,
But ev'n the spring, the spring itself, is loft.
Amyntas-oh!-he could not speak the rest,
Nor needed, for presaging Damon guess'd.
Equal with heaven young Damon lov'd the boy,
The boast of nature, both his parents' joy.
His graceful form revolving in his mind;
So great a genius, and a foul so kind,
Gave fad assurance that his fears were true;
Too well the envy of the gods he knew :

For

For when their gifts too lavishly are plac'd,
Soon they repent, and will not make them last.
For fure it was too bountiful a dole,

The mother's features, and the father's foul.
Then thus he cry'd: the morn bespoke the news :
The morning did her chearful light diffuse :

}

But fee how fuddenly she chang'd her face,
And brought on clouds and rain, the day's disgrace;
Just such, Amyntas, was thy promis'd race.
What charms adorn'd thy youth, where nature finil'd,
And more than man was given us in a child!

His infancy was ripe: a foul fublime

In years so tender that prevented time:

Heaven gave him all at once; then snatch'd away,
Ere mortals all his beauties could survey:

Just like the flower that buds and withers in a day.

}

MENALCAS.

The mother, lovely, though with grief opprest,
Reclin'd his dying head upon her breast.
The mournful family stood all around;
One groan was heard, one universal sound:
All were in floods of tears and endless sorrow drown'd.

So dire a fadness sat on every look,

{

Ev'n death repented he had given the stroke.
He griev'd his fatal work had been ordain'd,
But promis'd length of life to those who yet remain'd.
The mother's and her eldest daughter's grace,
It seems, had brib'd him to prolong their space.
The father bore it with undaunted foul,
Like one who durst his destiny controul:

Yet

Yet with becoming grief he bore his part,
Resign'd his fon, but not resign'd his heart.
Patient as Job; and may he live to see,
Like him, a new increasing family !

DAMO N.

Such is my with, and fuch my prophesy.
For yet, my friend, the beauteous mould remains;
Long may the exercise her fruitful pains!
But, ah! with better hap, and bring a race

More lasting, and endued with equal grace!
Equal she may, but farther none can go:
For he was all that was exact below.

MENALCAS.

Damon, behold yon breaking purple cloud; Hear'st thou not hymns and fongs divinely loud? There mounts Amyntas; the young cherubs play About their godlike mate, and fing him on his way. He cleaves the liquid air, behold he flies, And every moment gains upon the skies. The new-come guest admires th' ætherial state, The fapphire portal, and the golden gate; And now admitted in the shining throng, He shows the pafsport which he brought along. His pafsport is his innocence and grace, Well known to all the natives of the place. Now fing, ye joyful angels, and admire

}

Your brother's voice that comes to mend your quire: Sing you, while endless tears our eyes bestow;

For like Amyntas none is left below.

On VI.

On the Death of a very young Gentleman.

HE who could view the book of destiny,

And read whatever there was writ of thee, O charming youth, in the first opening page, So many graces in so green an age, Such wit, such modesty, such strength of mind, A foul at once so manly, and so kind; Would wonder, when he turn'd the volume o'er, And after some few leaves should find no more, Nought but a blank remain, a dead void space, A step of life that promis'd such a race. We must not, dare not think, that heaven began A child, and could not finish him a man; Reflecting what a mighty store was laid Of rich materials, and a model made : The cost already furnish'd; so bestow'd, As more was never to one foul allow'd: Yet, after this profusion spent in vain, Nothing but mouldering ashes to remain, I guess not, lest I split upon the shelf, Yet, durft I guess, heaven kept it for himself; And giving us the use, did foon recal, Ere we could fpare, the mighty principal. Thus then he disappear'd, was rarify'd; For 'tis improper speech to say he dy'd: He was exhal'd; his great Creator drew His fpirit, as the fun the morning dew.