One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet befide the rill,

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:

The next with dirges due in fad array Slow thro' the church-way path we faw him borne.

Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the ftone, beneath yon aged thorn*.*

In the first edition of this poem, the following beautiful lines were inferted immediately before the epitaph; but they have been fince omitted, as the parenthesis was thought too long:

There scattered oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unfeen, are show'rs of violets found;
The redbreaft loves to build and warble there,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground.

THE

THE EPITAPH.

HERE refts his head upon the lap of Earth
A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown:
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere,
Heav'n did a recompence as largely send :
He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear,

He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a

Friend.

No farther feek his merits to difclofe,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope* repofe,)

The bofom of his Father and his God.

*

Paventofa fpeme.

FINI S.

PETRARCH, Son. 114.