Part 21 (1/2)
EPITAPH
On Lord Aubrey Beauclerk(45), in Westminster Abbey, 1740.
Whilst Britain boasts her empire o'er the deep, This marble shall compel the brave to weep: As men, as Britons, and as soldiers, mourn; 'Tis dauntless, loyal, virtuous Beauclerk's urn.
Sweet were his manners, as his soul was great, And ripe his worth, though immature his fate; Each tender grace that joy and love inspires, Living, he mingled with his martial fires: Dying, he bid Britannia's thunders roar; And Spain still felt him, when he breath'd no more.
EPITAPH AT WELWYN, HERTFORDs.h.i.+RE.
If fond of what is rare, attend!
Here lies an honest man, Of perfect piety, Of lamblike patience, My friend, James Barker; To whom I pay this mean memorial, For what deserves the greatest.
An example Which shone through all the clouds of fortune, Industrious in low estate, The lesson and reproach of those above him.
To lay this little stone Is my ambition; While others rear The polish'd marbles of the great!
Vain pomp; A turf o'er virtue charms us more.
E. Y. 1749.
A LETTER TO MR. TICKELL,
Occasioned by the Death of the Right Hon. Joseph Addison, Esq., 1719.
-Tu nunc eris alter ab illo.
-VIRG.
O long with me in Oxford groves confin'd, In social arts and sacred friends.h.i.+p join'd; Fair Isis' sorrow, and fair Isis' boast, Lost from her side, but fortunately lost; Thy wonted aid, my dear companion! bring, And teach me thy departed friend to sing: A darling theme! once powerful to inspire, And now to melt, the muses' mournful choir: Now, and now first, we freely dare commend His modest worth, nor shall our praise offend.
Early he bloom'd amid the learned train, And ravish'd Isis listen'd to his strain.
”See, see,” she cried, ”old Maro's muse appears, Wak'd from her slumber of two thousand years: Her finish'd charms to Addison she brings, Thinks in his thought, and in his numbers sings.
All read transported his pure cla.s.sic page; Read, and forget their climate and their age.”
The state, when now his rising fame was known, Th' unrival'd genius challeng'd for her own, Nor would that one, for scenes for action strong, Should let a life evaporate in song.
As health and strength the brightest charms dispense, Wit is the blossom of the soundest sense: Yet few, how few, with lofty thoughts inspir'd, With quickness pointed, and with rapture fir'd, In conscious pride their own importance find, Blind to themselves, as the hard world is blind!
Wit they esteem a gay but worthless power, The slight amus.e.m.e.nt of a leisure hour; Unmindful that, conceal'd from vulgar eyes, Majestic wisdom wears the bright disguise.
Poor Dido fondled thus, with idle joy, Dread Cupid, lurking in the Trojan boy; Lightly she toy'd, and trifled with his charms, And knew not that a G.o.d was in her arms.
Who greatest excellence of thought could boast, In action, too, have been distinguish'd most: This Sommers(46) knew, and Addison sent forth From the malignant regions of the north, To be matur'd in more indulgent skies, Where all the vigour of the soul can rise; Thro' warmer veins where sprightlier spirits run, And sense enliven'd sparkles in the sun.
With secret pain the prudent patriot gave The hopes of Britain to the rolling wave, Anxious, the charge to all the stars resign'd, And plac'd a confidence in sea and wind.
Ausonia soon receiv'd her wondering guest, And equal wonder in her turn confess'd, To see her fervours rival'd by the pole, Her l.u.s.tre beaming from a northern soul: In like surprise was her aeneas lost, To find his picture grace a foreign coast.
Now the wide field of Europe he surveys, Compares her kings, her thrones and empires weighs, In ripen'd judgment and consummate thought; Great work! by Na.s.sau's favour cheaply bought.
He now returns to Britain a support, Wise in her senate, graceful in her court; And when the public welfare would permit, The source of learning, and the soul of wit.
O Warwick! (whom the muse is fond to name, And kindles, conscious of her future theme,) O Warwick! by divine contagion bright!
How early didst thou catch his radiant light!
By him inspir'd, how s.h.i.+ne before thy time, And leave thy years, and leap into thy prime!