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Who died March 22, 1765, and was buried in

St. Catharine's Church, London.

HOU, who , within these hallow'd walls

TH

shalt move,

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Know that this stone was fix'd by gen'rous love ;
A husband's fondest hopes beneath it rest,
A wife, in whom fair virtue stood confest
In whom sweet love, and mild compassion join'd,
With each soft grace that decks the female mind;
A wife who never gave her husband pain,
But when pale death had rank'd her with the sain
What soothing joys her goodness did impart,
Ah! read them in her partner's broken heart !
Think, -in his grief, thou seeft her virtues rise,
And pity's streams shall foon o'erflow thine eyes !

!

TO

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SOFT breathing o’er the velvet green,

Is felt the heart-reviving gale ; Gay Spring unfolds the blooming scene,

The budding grove and scented vale.

II.
The orchard's sweets, the garden's flowers,

The brook that babbles thro' the plain,
The bladed lawns and blossom’d bowers,

The wild notes of the feather’d train

ITI.
In vain their matchless charms unite,

Poetic rapture to diffufe ;
I view them with a calm delight,

But uninspir'd remains the muse.

IV.
Too dull I grow to sport in rhime,

No raperous warmth elates my soul ;
No more the muse's hill I climb,

Nor in bright fancy's chariot roll,

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V.

The glories of the vernal year,

The lustre of the female form, Could once awake the sprightly air,

And all my soul with transport warm.

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VI.

But, now transformd to hermit grave,

These radiant prospects languid seem, I haunt no more the flow'ry cave,

Nor loll aside the plaintive stream.

VII.

Th' enchanting pow'r of verse no more

In sweet Elysium wraps my heart ; O'er heaps of mufty prose I pore,

Forgetful of the Muse's art.

VIII.

What then can re-illume my breast,

And light the long neglected fire, When Nature's landscape gaily drest,

Can scarce a glowing thought inspire ?

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IX.

When e’en CLARINDA's winning charms,

But half excites the sprightly strain ; Tho' form’d to raise love's soft alarms,

And rank'd in beauty's lucid train.

1

X.

Yet though these flatt'ring themes no morf,

Allure the moral bard to stray, Still shall the Muse a theme explore,

Deserving of her choicelt lay.

XI.

Good-nature shall new string the lyre,

Which marks CLARINDA for her own ; CLARINDA's Beauty all admire,

I praise her for this charm alone.

THE

Τ. Η Ε

MORNING INVITATION,

To Two YOUNG LADIES at- the

GLO'U CE S T E R SPRIN G.

I.
E QUESTER’D from the city's noise,
Its tumults and fantastic joys,

Fair nymphs and swains retire,
Where Delaware's far rolling tide,
Majestic winds by Glo'ster's side,

Whofe shades new joys inspire,

II..
There innocence and mirth-resort,
And round its banks the graces sport,

Young love, delight and joy ;
Bright blushing health unlocks his springs,
Each grove around its fragrance Alings,

With sweets that never cloy.

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