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A Pindaric Poem on the Death of the
Lord Fairfax, Father to the Dutchess
Nder this Stone does lie
One born for Victory;
Who e'er for that alone a Conqueror wou'd be: Both Sexes Virtues were in him combin'd, He had the Fierceness of the manliest Mind, And yet the Meekness too of Woman-kind:) He never knew what Envy was, nor Hate ;
His Soul was fillid with Truth and Honesty, And with another thing quite out of Date, Callid Modesty.
II. He ne'er seem'd Impudent, but is the place Where Impudence it self dares seldom shew
it's Face; Had any Strangers spy'd him in the Room With some of those he had overcome,
136 A PINDARIC upon
Was Wonderful and Great,
Than in his private last Retreat ;
As can dismiss the Power which he has got,
And with expence of Blood had bought,
Store great enough he thought,
With just as little Pride
As if he had been of his Enemies side,
He neither Wealth, nor Places sought:
He was content to know,
(For he had found it so) That, when he pleas'd to conquer, he was able, And left the Spoil and Plunder to the Rabble.
He might have been a King, But that he understood
How much it was a meaner thing To be unjustly Great, than honourably Good,
V...... This from the World did Admiration draw And from his Friends, both Love and Awe, Remembring what he did in Fight before :
And his Foes, lov'd him too,
As they were bound to do, Because he was resolv'd to fight no more. So bless’d by All, he dyd; but far more bless'd were we,
2 If we were sure to live, till we could see A Man as great in War, as just in Peace as He.
To his MISTRESS.
To think so gross a Lye,
With whom I was content to be,
At that which they call keeping Company; But after all that they could do, I still could be with more:
Their Absence never made me shed a Tear;
And I can truly swear,
I ne'er beheld that thing I could adore.
er to move