He sicken'd soon to death; and what is worse, He well deserv'd, and felt, the coward's curse; Unpity'd, scorn'd, insulted his last hour, Far, far from home, and in a vassal's power; His pale cheek rested on his shameful chain, No friend to mourn, no flatterer to feign; No suit retards, no comfort sooths his doom, And not one tear bedews a monarch's tomb. Nor ends it thus-dire vengeance to complete, His antient empire falling, shares his fate: His throne forgot! his weeping country chain'd! And nations ask-Where Alexander reign'd. As public woes a prince's crime pursue, So public blessings are his virtue's due, Shout Britons, shout-auspiciuas fortune bless! And cry, Long live-OUR title to success! PREFACE. As the occasion of this poem was real, not fictitious; so the method pursued in it, was rather imposed, by what spontaneously arose in the author's mind on that occasion than meditated or designed. Which will appear very probable from the nature of it. For it differs from the common mode of Poetry, which is, from long narrations to draw short morals. Here, on the contrary, the narrative is short, and the morality arising from it makes the bulk of the Poem. the reason of it is, That the facts mentioned did naturally pour these moral reflections on the thought of the writer. THE COMPLAINT. NIGHT THE FIRST: ON LIFE, DEATH, AND IMMORTALITY. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE ARTHUR ONSLOW, ESQ. SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. TIR'D Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! Where Fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes; From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose, At random drove, her helm of reason lost. Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only change of pain, (A bitter change!) severer for severe. The Day too short for my distress'; and Night, |