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Intended for Mr. Rowe,

In Westminster-Abbey.


HY reliques, Rowe, to this fair Urn we

And sacred, place by Dryden's awful dust :
Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies,
To which thy Tomb shall guide inquiring eyes.

It is as follows, on the Monument in the Abbey erected to

Rowe and his Daughter.
Thy Reliques, Rowe! to this sad shrine we trust,
And near thy SHAKESPEAR place thy honour'd bust.
Oh, next him, fkillid to draw the tender tear,
For never heart felt passion more sincere;
To nobler sentiment to fire the brave,
For never BRITON more disdain'd a Nave.
Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest;
Blest in thy genius, in thy love too blest!
And bleft, that timely from our scene remov’d,
Thy soul enjoys the liberty it lov’d.
To these so mourn'd in death, so lov'd in life!
The childless parent and the widow'd wife,
With tears inscribes this monumental stone,

That holds their athes and expects her own.
Ver. 3. Beneaib a rude) The Tomb of Nir. Dryden was


Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
Blest in thy Genius, in thy Love too bleft!
One grateful woman to thy fame supplies
What a whole thankless land to his denies.

erected upon this hint by the Duke of Buckingham; to which was originally intended this Epitaph,

This SHEFFIELD rais'd. The sacred Duft below

Was DRYDEN once: The rest who does not know? which the Author fince changed into the plain inscription now pon it, being only the name of that great Poet.

Natus Aug. 9, 1631. Mortuus Maij 1. 1700.




Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.


ERE refts a Woman, good without pre

Bleft with plain Reason, and with fober Sense:
No Conquests fhe, but o'er herfeif, defir'd,
No Arts essay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Passion and Pride were to her soul unknown,
Convinç'd that Virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, so compos'd a mind;
So firm, yet soft; so strong, yet fo refind;
Heav'n, as its purest gold, by Tortures try'd;
The Saint sustain d it, but the Womạn dy'd,


On the Monument of the Honourable ROBERT

DIGBY, and of his Sifter MARY, erected by their Father the LORD DIGBY, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727.


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O! fair Example of untainted youth,

Of modest wisdom, and pacific truth :
Compos'd in suff'rings, and in joy fedate,
Good without noife, without pretension great.
Juft of thy word, in ev'ry thought fincere,
Who knew no wish but what the world might hear;
Of softest manners, unaffected mind,
Lover of peace, and friend of human kind :
Go live! for Heaven's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy Moral to Divine.

And thou, blest Maid! attendant on his doom,
Pensive hath followed to the filent tomb,
Steer'd the same course to the same quiet fhore,
Not parted long, and now to part no more !
Go then, where only bliss sincere is known!
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one !

Yet take these Tears, Mortality's relief,
And till we share your joys, forgive our grief:
These little rites, a Stone, a Verse receive;
'Tis all a Father, all a Friend can give!



In Westminster-Abbey, 1723.

a , Whose Art was Nature, and whose Pictures Thought; Now for two ages having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, Lies crown'd with Princes honours, Poets lays, 5 Due to his Merit, and brave Thirst of praise.

Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie Her works; and, dying, fears herself may die.

Ver. 7. Imitated on the famous Epitaph on Raphael,

Raphael, timuit, quo Sospite, vinci
Rerum magna parens, et moriente, mori,

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