He that will give my Grace but what is hers,
Must say her death has not
Made only her dear Scott,
But virtue, worth and sweetness, widowers.
Augusta, the mother of that best of Kings, George the Third, has placed this Monument, who chose him when living to officiate as her Chaplain, and after he died, which was on the 4th of January, 1761, in the 84th year of his age, honored him with this marble
About the tomb of Hales, whose fair design
And polish, great Augusta caus'd to shine,
Religion, hoary faith, and virtue wait,
And shed perpetual tears in mournful state.
But of the preacher render'd to his clay,
The voice of wisdom still has this to say:
He was a man to hear affliction's cry,
And trace his maker's works with curious eye.
O Hales! thy praises not the latest age
Shall e'er diminish, or shall blot thy page;
England so proud of Newton shall agree,
She has a son of equal rank in thee.
THE RIGHT HONORABLE JAMES CRAGGS.
Secretary at War, in April, 1717,
And One of His Majesty's Privy Council, and
Secretary of State in March, 1718,
He died Feb. 16, 1720, aged 35.
Statesmen, yet friend to truth, of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honor clear!
Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend.
Ennobl'd by himself, by all approv'd,
Prais'd, wept, and honor'd, by the muse he lov'd.
Who died in the year 1779, at the age of 63.
To paint fair nature by divine command,
Her magic pencil in his glowing hand,
A Shakspeare rose-then to expand his fame,
Wide o'er this breathing world a Garrick came
Though sunk in death, the forms the poet drew,
The actor's genius bade them breathe anew:
Though like the bard himself in night they lay,
Immortal Garrick called them back to day :
And till eternity with power sublime,
Shall mark the mortal hour of hoary time,
Shakspeare and Garrick like twin stars shall shine,
And earth irradiate with a beam divine.
SIR PALMES FAIRBORN, KNT.
In the execution of which Command, he was mortally wounded by a shot from the Moors, then besieging the town, in the 46th year of his age, October 24, 1680.
Ye sacred reliques, which your marble keep,
Here undisturb'd by wars, in quiet sleep,
Discharge the trust which (when it was below)
Fairborn's undaunted soul did undergo,
And be the town's palladium from the foe.
Alive and dead these walls he will defend;
Great actions great examples must attend.
The Candian siege his early valour knew,
Where Turkish blood did his young hands imbrue;
From thence returning with deserv'd applause,
Against the Moors his well flesh'd sword he draws,
The same the courage, and the same the cause.
His youth and age, his life and death combine,
As in some great and regular design,
All of a piece throughout, and all divine,
Still nearer heaven his virtues shone more bright,
Like rising flames expanding in their height,
The martyr's glory crown'd the soldier's fight.
More bravely British general never fell,
No General's death was e'er reveng'd so well,
Which his pleas'd eyes beheld before their close,
Follow'd by thousand victims of his foes.
To his lamented loss, for times to come,
His pious widow consecrates this tomb.
SIR GODFREY KNELLER, KNT.
He was Painter to
King Charles II.; James II.; William III.; Anne and George I.
Born in 1646, died in 1723, aged 77.
He was Knighted, March 3, 1691, and created a Baronet May 24, 1715,
(Among his most excellent works are the Beauties of the Court of Charles II.)
His Epitaph is written by Pope.
Kneller by heaven and not a master taught,
Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought;
When now two ages he had snatch'd from fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Rests crown'd with princes' honors, poet's lays
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.
Son of Lord George Carteret,
Who died March 19, 1710, aged 19,-a King's Scholar at Westminster. An emblem of time is standing on an altar supposed to be repeating the following Epitaph :
Why flows the mournful muse's tear
For thee cut down in life's full prime :
Why sighs for thee the parent dear,
Cropt by the scythe of hoary time?
Lo! this my boy's the common lot!
To me thy memory entrust;
When all that's dear shall be forgot,
I'll guard thy venerable dust.
From age to age, as I proclaim
Thy learning piety and truth;
Thy great example shall inflame
And emulation raise in youth.
Was the youngest son of Charles, Duke of St. Alban's, by Diana, daughter of Aubrey de Vere, Earl of Oxford. He went early to sea, and was made a commander in 1731. In 1740, he was sent upon that memorable expedition to Carthagena, under the command of Admiral Vernon, in his Majesty's ship the Prince Frederick, which, with three others, were ordered to cannonade the castle Bocca Chica. One of these being obliged to quit her station, the
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