EPITAPH

ON MRS CLARKE.*

Lo! where this silent marble weeps,
A Friend, a Wife, a Mother sleeps:
A heart within whose sacred cell
The peaceful Virtues loved to dwell.
Affection warm, and Faith sincere,
And soft Humanity were there.
In agony, in death resign'd,

She felt the wound she left behind.

Her infant Image here below

Sits smiling on a father's wo:

Whom what awaits, while yet he strays
Along the lonely vale of days?
A pang, to secret sorrow dear;
A sigh; an unavailing tear;

Till Time shall every grief remove,

With life, with memory, and with love

EPITAPH

ON SIR WILLIAM PEERE WILLIAMS,
CAPTAIN IN Burgoyne's DRAGOONS.

Here, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame,

Young Williams fought for England's fair renown; His mind each Muse, each Grace adorn'd his frame, Nor Envy dared to view him with a frown.

At Aix, his voluntary sword he drew:t

There first in blood his infant honour seal'd; From fortune, pleasure, science, love, he flew, And scorn'd repose when Britain took the field.

* The wife of Dr Clarke, physician at Epsom, died April 27, 1757, and is buried in the church of Beckenham, Kent.

+ In the expedition to Aix, he was on board the Magnanime, with Lord Howe; and was deputed to receive the capitulation.

With eyes of flame, and cool undaunted breast,
Victor he stood on Bellisle's rocky steeps-
Ah, gallant youth! this marble tells the rest,
Where melancholy Friendship bends and weeps.

STANZAS TO MR BENTLEY.*

A FRAGMENT.

In silent gaze the tuneful choir among,

Half pleased, half blushing, let the Muse admire,
While Bentley leads her Sister-Art along,
And bids the pencil answer to the lyre.
See, in their course, each transitory thought
Fix'd by his touch a lasting essence take;
Each dream, in Fancy's airy colouring wrought,
To local symmetry and life awake!

The tardy rhymes that used to linger on,

To censure cold, and negligent of fame,

In swifter measures animated run,

And catch a lustre from his genuine flame.
Ah! could they catch his strength, his easy grace,
His quick creation, his unerring line;
The energy of Pope they might efface,
And Dryden's harmony submit to mine.

But not to one in this benighted age
Is that diviner inspiration given

That burns in Shakspere's or in Milton's page—
The pomp and prodigality of heaven:

As when conspiring in the diamond's blaze,

The meaner gems, that singly charm the sight,
Together dart their intermingled rays,

And dazzle with a luxury of light.

* Mr Bentley had made a set of designs for Mr Gray's poems.

Enough for me, if to some feeling breast
My lines a secret sympathy impart;
And as their pleasing influence flows confess'd.
A sigh of soft reflection heave the heart *

SONG.t

Thyrsis, when he left me, swore
In the spring he would return-
Ah! what means the opening flower,
And the bud that decks the thorn.
"Twas the nightingale that sung!
'Twas the lark that upward sprung!
Idle notes! untimely green!
Why such unavailing haste ?
Gentle gales and sky serene

Prove not always winter past.
Cease, my doubts, my fears to move,
Spare the honour of my love.

AMATORY LINES.T

With Beauty, with Pleasure surrounded, to languish~~
To weep, without knowing the cause of my anguish—
To start from short slumbers, and wish for the morning-
To close my dull eyes when I see it returning-
Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected,
Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected-
Ah, say, fellow-swains, how these symptoms befell me?
They smile, but reply not-sure DELIA CAN TELL ME!

* The words in italic were supplied by Mr Mason.

+ Written, at the request of Miss Speed, to an old air of Geminiani: the idea is from the French.

This jeu d'esprit was found among the MSS. of Gray, and printed in a note in the second volume of Warton's edition of Pope.

TOPHET.*

AN EPIGRAM.

Thus Tophet look'd; so grinn'd the brawling fiend,
Whilst frighted prelates bow'd, and call'd him friend.
Our Mother-Church, with half-averted sight,
Blush'd as she bless'd her grizzly proselyte;

Hosannas rung through hell's tremendous borders,
And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders.

IMPROMPTU,

Suggested by a View, in 1766, of the Seat and Ruins of a
Deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent.

Old, and abandon'd by each venal friend,
Here H-dt form'd the pious resolution
To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend
A broken character and constitution.

On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice:

Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand; Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice,

And mariners, though shipwreck'd, dread to land. Here reign the blustering North and blighting East, No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing;

Yet nature could not furnish out the feast,

Art he invokes new horrors still to bring.

* Mr Etough, of Cambridge University, the person satirised, was as remarkable for the eccentricities of his character, as for his personal appearance. A Mr Tyson, of Benet College, made an etching of his head, and presented it to Mr Gray, who attached to it the above lines. Some information respecting Mr Etough (who was rector of Therfield, Herts, and of Colmworth, Bedfordshire), may be found in the "Gentleman's Magazine," Vol. lvi., pp. 25, 281.

† Henry Fox, first Lord Holland.

Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise,
Turrets and arches nodding to their fall,
Unpeopled monast❜ries delude our eyes,
And mimic desolation covers all.

"Ah!" said the sighing peer, "had B―te been true,*
Nor M-'s, R-'s, B-'s friendship vain,
Far better scenes than these had bless'd our view
And realised the beauties which we feign:

Purged by the sword, and purified by fire,

Then had we seen proud London's hated walls: Owls would have hooted in St Peter's choir,

And foxes stunk and litter'd in St Paul's.”

*Lord Bute. The other names are probably those of Murray, Rigby, and Bedford.