Sayfadaki görseller
PDF
ePub

EPITAPH

ON A

GENTLEMAN'S SON

O F

NINE YEARS OLD.

H

BY J. CRADDOCK, Esq

ERE refts the fairest Bud of Hope
That e'er to fondest Wish was given;
If thou wold't know it's happier State,
Repent and feek the Flower in Heaven.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Who wished not to hear the Toll of a Bell on the Evening of the late Princess Dowager's Funeral.

By J. CRADDOCK, Esq.

ND why not hear the Sound of yonder Bell?
Ah why from ferious Thought for ever fly?

It tolls a fober, awful, folemn Knell,

A wifh'd-for Knell to Immortality.

Think not a Round of Folly's mad Career,

Can always fhield thee from Reflection's Pow'r; The Young, the Fond, the Rich, the Gay, muft fear, Too long regardless of an awful Hour.

Think not that beauteous Form that now you wear, That Glow of Crimson-thofe inspiring Eyes

Muft linger ever here-they all declare

They speak aloud their Kindred to the Skies.

Do not the Hour, the Day, the Month the Year All in their Course expire?-But all renew;

All Nature, fhews alas! a Profpect drear;

All Nature fhews there's Happiness in view.

Long

Long toft in Storms, do Mariners repine
When the glad Pilot distant Land defcries?
Ah fee them eager trace the folid Line,

See their Hopes kindle as the Objects rise!

And fhall my Fair, with brightest Hopes in Store, Not once look up beyond this barren Clod? Shall the alone her Destiny deplore,

Her Anchor Heaven! and her Pilot God?

EPIGR RAM

ON THE

Four Tranflations of HOMER.

N Ogilby's dull Strains lay Homer dead;

Hobbs tried in vain to make him lift his Head;

He rose to live in Pope's immortal Verse,
And now lies buried in Mac-fon's Erse.

AN

[blocks in formation]

Ο

NCE more the Sun his yearly Tour
Hath finish'd fince in plaintive Mood

I usher'd in my natal Hour,

[ocr errors]

A Prey to joyless Solitude;

As then to joylefs Solitude a Prey,

Now Mufe begin a more harmonious Lay.

For lo! She comes: the Queen of Love
Propitious comes, and by her Side,
The Graces musically move;

Leading with gentle Hand a Bride,
Fairer than e'er infpir'd a Poet's Dreams,
When Fancy with its lov'd Idea teems.

Blind to Events, in vain we pry

Thro' future Life's myfterious Scene;

Oft from the dark and fullen Sky

Breaks forth a Sunfhine unforeseen,

As now bright Hymen's Lamp, with fudden Blaze,
Difpell'd the Gloom that hover'd o'er my Days!

Thanks that my once-thought cruel Fate,
Check'd the fond Hopes of youthful Rage,

And, that Defire on Choice might wait,

Referv'd me for maturer Age,

When Truth and Friendship, and Affections pure,
Feed the soft Flame, and lasting Joys affure.

Thanks to the Mufe, that o'er my Birth
Prefiding, gave me to despise
All the gay-feeming Drofs of Earth,

The Wealth, the Pomp that others prize;
These let Ambition feek, instead of these
Grant a kind Confort, and domestick Ease.

'Twas thus I pray'd, nor vain my Pray'r,
Heaven, all-indulgent, hath bestow'd
A Confort kind, domeftick Fair,

Wife, faithful, amiable and good,
With every Virtue, every Grace supply'd,
And, to adorn my Station, Wealth befide.

Hence Æra of my Days proceed,
The paft was all a void Forlorn:
'Tis from this Date I live indeed
To Hymeneal Solace born:

Unwedded Hours the fame dull Circle run,
Life without Love is Earth without a Sun,

ΑΝ

« ÖncekiDevam »