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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
Know that this stone was fix'd by gen'rous love ;
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.
The brook that babbles thro' the plain,
The wild notes of the feather’d train
Poetic rapture to diffufe ;
But uninspir'd remains the muse.
No raperous warmth elates my soul ;
Nor in bright fancy's chariot roll,
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.
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.
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.
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 ?
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.
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.
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.
Τ. Η Ε
To Two YOUNG LADIES at- the
GLO'U CE S T E R SPRIN G.
Fair nymphs and swains retire,
Whofe shades new joys inspire,
Young love, delight and joy ;
With sweets that never cloy.