Bleft with plain Reason, and with fober Senfe :
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 foul unknown,
Convinc'd that Virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, fo compos'd a mind;
So firm, yet soft; fo ftrong, yet fo refin'd;
Heav'n, as its pureft gold, by Tortures try'd;
The Saint fuftain'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,
G of modeft wirdom, and pacifick truth:
Compos'd in fuff'rings, and in joy fedate,
Good without noise, without pretenfion great.
Juft of thy word, in ev'ry thought fincere,
Who knew no wifh but what the world might hear:
Of foftest 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 courfe 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 thefe Tears, Mortality's relief,
And till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
Thefe little rites, a Stone, a Verse receive;
'Tis all a Father, all a Friend can give!
In Westminster-Abbey, 1729.
KNELLER, by Heav'n and not a Master
Whofe 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.
Imitated from the famous Epitaph on Raphael.
Raphael, timuit, quo fofpite, vinci
Rerum magna parens, et morienti, mori.
On General HENRY WITHERS,
In Westminster-Abbey, 1723.
ERE, WITHERS, reft! thou bravest, 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 spirit, or thy Social love!
Amidft Corruption, Luxury, and Rage,
Still leave fome ancient Virtues to our age::
Nor let us fay, (thofe English glories gone)
The last true Briton lies beneath this ftone.
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
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 feaft rose fatisfy'd,
Thank'd Heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd.
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