HERE, Withers, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind, Thy country's friend, but more of human kind. 0, born to arms! 0, worth in youth approved ! 0, soft humanity, in age beloved ! For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear, And the gay courtier feels the sigh sincere.

Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial spirit or thy social love!
Amidst corruption, luxury, and rage,
Still leave some ancient virtues to our age:
Nor let us say, those English glories gone,
The last true Briton lies beneath this stone.

10

This modest stone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly say, Here lies an honest man:
A poet, bless'd beyond the poet's fate,
Whom Heaven kept sacred from the proud and

great:
Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, 5
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 temperate feast rose satisfied ;
Thank'd Heaven that he had lived, and that he .

died.

Of manners gentle, of affections mild ;
In wit, a man; simplicity, a child ;
With native humor tempering virtuous rage,
Form'd to delight at once and lash the age ;
Above temptation in a low estate,
And uncorrupted ev'n among the great ;
A safe companion, and an easy friend,
Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end :
These are thy honors ! not that here thy bust
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust; 10
But that the worthy and the good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms,— Here lies Gay.'

OF POPE

of Pope

XII.

INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON,

IN WESTMINSTER-ABLEY.

ISAACUS NEWTONUS:

Quem Immortalem

Testantur Tempus, Natura, Cælum :

Mortalem

Hoc marmor fatetur.

Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night : God said, “ Let Newton be!' and all was light.

XIII.

ON DR. FRANCIS ATTERBURY,

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER,

Who died in exile at Paris, 1732, his only daughter having

expired in his arms immediately after she arrived in France to see him.

DIALOGUE.

SHE.

Yes, we have lived--one pang, and then we part !
May Heaven, dear father! now have all thy heart.
Yet, ah! how once we loved, remember still,
Till you are dust like me.

HE.

Dear shade! I will ; Then mix this dust with thine.-0 spotless ghost ! 0, more than fortune, friends, or country lost ! Is there on earth one care, one wish beside? Yes--Save my country, Heaven!

He said, and died.