Mine with true fighs thy abfence to bemoan,
And grave with faithful epitaphs thy ftone.
If e'er from me thy lov'd memorial part,
May shame afflict this alienated heart;
Of thee forgetful if I form a fong,
My lyre be broken, and untun'd my tongue,
My grief be doubled, from thy image free,
And mirth a torment, unchaftis'd by thee.
Oft let me range the gloomy ifles alone,
(Sad luxury! to vulgar minds unknown)
Along the walls where speaking marbles show
What worthies form the hallow'd mould below:
Proud names, who once the reins of empire held;
In arms who triumph'd; or in arts excell'd;
Chiefs, grac'd with scars, and prodigal of blood;
Stern patriots, who for facred freedom flood;
Juft men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And faints, who taught, and led the way to heaven.
Ne'er to these chambers, where the mighty reft,
Since their foundation, came a nobler gueft ;
Nor e'er was to the bowers of blifs convey'd
A fairer fpirit, or more welcome shade.
In what new region, to the juft affign'd,
What new employments please th' unbody'd mind ?
• Thofe venerable walls were never bleft,
Since their foundation, with a nobler gueft.
Higgons's poem on Waller's death. Nichols's
Collection, vol. i. p. 130.
A winged virtue, through th' etherial fky,
From world to world unweary'd does he fly,
Or curious trace the long laborious maze
Of heav'n's decrees, where wond'ring angels gaze?
Does he delight to hear bold feraphs tell,
How Michael battled, and the Dragon fell?
Or, mix'd with milder cherubim, to glow
In hymns of love, not ill effay'd below?
Or doft thou warn poor mortals left behind,
A task well fuited to thy gentle mind?
Oh, if fometimes thy fpotlefs form defcend,
To me thy aid, thou guardian genius, lend!
When age mifguides me, or when fear alarms.
When pain diftreffes, or when pleasure charms,
In filent whifp'rings purer thoughts impart,
And turn from ill a frail and feeble heart;
Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before,
'Till blifs fhall join, nor death can part us more.
That awful form (which, fo the heav'ns decree,
Muft ftill be lov'd, and ftill deplor'd by me)
In nightly vifions feldom fails to rife,
Or rous'd by fancy, meets my waking eyes.
If bufinefs calls, or crowded courts invite,
Th' unblemish'd statesman feems to ftrike my fight;
If in the stage I feek to footh my care,
I meet his foul which breathes in Cato there ;
If penfive to the rural fhades I rove,
His shape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove:
'Twas there of juft and good he reafon'd ftrong,
Clear'd fome great truths, or rais'd fome ferious fong;
There patient show'd us the wife course to steer,
A candid cenfor, and a friend fincere ;
There taught us how to live; and (oh! too high
The price for knowledge) taught us how to die ".
Thou hill, whose brow the antique structures grace,
Rear'd by bold chiefs of Warwick's noble race,
Why, once fo lov'd, whene'er thy bower appears,
O'er my dim eye-balls glance the fudden tears?
How sweet were once thy profpects fresh and fair,
Thy floping walks, and unpolluted air!
How sweet the glooms beneath thy aged trees,
Thy noon-tide fhadow, and the evening breeze }
His image thy forfaken bowers restore ;
Thy walks and airy prospects charm no more;
No more the fummer in thy glooms allay'd,
Thy evening breezes, and thy noon-day fhade.
From other ills, however fortune frown'd,
Some refuge in the Mufe's art I found ;
Reluctant now I touch the trembling string,
Bereft of him, who taught me how to fing;
And these fad accents, murmur'd o'er his urn,
Betray that abfence they attempt to mourn.
See Dr. Young's Conjectures on Original Compofition, where the circumftance here alluded to is very fully explained.
Holland House, where Mr. Addison died.
Oh! muft I then (now fresh my bofom bleeds,
And Craggs f in death to Addison fucceeds)
The verse, begun to one loft friend, prolong,
And weep a fecond in th' unfinish'd fong!
These words divine, which, on his death-bed laid,
To thee, O Craggs, th' expiring fage convey'd,
Great, but ill-omen'd monument of fame,
Nor he furviv'd to give, nor thou to claim.
Swift after him thy social spirit flies,
And close to his, how foon! thy coffin lies.
Bleft pair! whofe union future bards shall tell
In future tongues: each other's boast! farewel.
Farewel! whom join'd in fame, in friendship try'd,
No chance could fever, nor the
grave divide.
James Craggs, the younger, Efq; who fucceeded Mr. Addison as fecretary of state, and survived him but a short time. He was a gentleman much efteemed by the first writers of the times in which he lived, and is frequently celebrated in their works. He died the 16th of February 1720-1, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, where a monument is erected to his memory, with an inscription thereon written by Mr. Pope.
F Leinster fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid ftream
Reflect a fairer face;
"Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rofy hue,
Her dainty lip, her damask cheek,
And eyes of gloffy blue.
Ah! have you feen a lily pale
When beating rains descend?
So droop'd this flow-consuming maid,
Her life now near its end.
By Lucy warn'd, of flatt'ring swains
Take heed, ye easy fair ;
Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye flatt'ring fwains, beware!
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