Intended for Mr. ROWE,
In WESTMINSTER-ABBEY *.
THY reliques, Rowe, to this fair Urn we truft,
And facred, place by DRYDEN's awful duft;
Beneath a rude + and nameless stone he lies,
To which thy Tomb shall guide inquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle fhade, and endless reft!
Bleft in thy Genius, in thy Love too bleft!
One grateful woman to thy fame supplies
What a whole thankless land to his denies.
It is as follows, on the Monument in the Abbey erected to Rowe and his Daughter.
Thy Reliques RowE! to this fad fhrine we truft,
And near thy SHAKESPEAR place thy honour'd bust.
Oh, next him, skili'd to draw the tender tear,
For never heart felt paffion more fincere;
To nobler fentiment to fire the brave,
For never BRITON more difdain'd a flave.
Peace to thy gentle fhade, and endless rest ;
Bleft in thy genius, in thy love too bleft!
And bleft, that timely from our scene remov'd,
Thy foul enjoys the liberty it lov'd.
To thefe fo mourn'd in death, fo lov'd in life!
The childless parent and the widow'd wife,
With tears infcribes this monumental stone,
That holds their ashes and expects her own.
+ The Tomb of Mr. Dryden was erected upon this hint by the Duke of Buckingham; to which was originally intended this Epitaph,
This SHEFFIELD rais'd. The facred Duft below
Was DRYDEN once: The reft who does not know?
which the Author fince changed into the plain infcription now upon it, be ing only the name of that great Poet.
DRYDEN.
Natus Aug. 9. 1631. Mortuus Maij 1. 1700.
JOANNES SHEFFIELD DUX BUCKINGHAMIENSIS POSUIT.
Who died of a CANCER in her BREAST.
HERE refts a Woman, good without pretence,
Bleft with plain Reason, and with fober Sense:
No Conquefts fhe, but o'er herself, defir'd,
No Arts effay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Paffion and Pride were to her Soul unknown,
Convinc'd that Virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, fo compos'd a mind;
So firm, yet foft; fo ftrong, yet fo refin'd;
Heav'n, as its pureft gold, by Tortures try'd ;
The Saint sustain❜d it, but the Woman dy'd,
On the Monument of the Honourable ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sifter MARY, erected by their Father the LORD DIGBY, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorfetfhire, 1727.
O! fair Example of untainted youth,
Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth:
Compos'd in fuff'rings, and in joy fedate,
Good without noise, without pretenfion great.
Just of thy word, in ev'ry thought fincere,
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 Heav'n's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy Moral to Divine.
And thou, bleft Maid! attendant on his doom,
Penfive haft follow'd to the filent tomb,
Steer'd the fame course to the fame quiet fhore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more!
Go then, where only blifs fincere 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 Verfe receive;
'Tis all a Father, all a Friend can give !
On Sir GODFREY KNELLE R, In WESTMINSTER-ABBEY, 1723.
KNELLER, by Heav'n and not a Mafter taught,
Whose Art was Nature, and whofe 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.
HERE, WITHERS, reft! thou braveft, gentleft mind,
Thy Country's friend, but more of human kind.
Oh born to Arms! O Worth in Youth approv'd!
O foft Humanity, in Age belov'd!
For thee the hardy Vet'ran drops a tear,
And the gay Courtier feels the figh fincere.
WITHERS, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy Martial fpirit, or thy Social love!
Amidft Corruption, Luxury, and Rage,
Still leave some ancient Virtues to our age:
Nor let us fay, (those English glories gone)
The laft true Briton lies beneath this ftone.
On Mr. ELIJAH FENTON,
At EASTHAMSTED in BERKS, 1730.
THIS modeft Stone, what few vain Marbles can,
May truly fay, Here lies an honest Man :
A Poet, bleft beyond the Poet's fate,
Whom Heav'n kept facred from the Proud and Great:
Foe to loud Praise, and Friend to learned 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 temp'rate feast rose fatisfy'd,
Thank'd Heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd.
On Mr.
Mr. GAY,
In WESTMINSTER-ABBEY, 1732.
F Manners gentle, of Affections mild;
In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child :
With native Humour temp'ring virtuous Rage,
Form'd to delight at once and lafh the age:
Above Temptation in a low Eftate,
And uncorrupted, ev'n among the Great:
A fafe Companion, and an easy Friend,
Unblam'd thro' Life, lamented in thy End.
These are Thy Honours! not that here thy Buft
Is mix'd with Heroes, or with Kings thy duft;
But that the Worthy and the Good shall say,
Striking their penfive bofoms-Here lies GAY *.
Intended for Sir ISAAC NEWTON, In WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.
Quem Immortalem
Teftantur Tempus, Natura, Calum :
Mortalem
Hoc marmor fatetur.
Nature and Nature's Laws lay hid in Night:
GOD faid, Let Newton be! and all was Light.
• I. e. in the hearts of the good and worthy.--. Mr. Pope told me his conceit in this line was not generally understocd. For, by peculiar ill-luck, the formulary expreffion, which makes the beauty, misleads the reader into a fenfe which takes it quite away.
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