POEMS IN MEMORY OF MR. GRAY.`
Thus fades the flow'r nipp'd by the frozen gale,
Though once so sweet, so lovely to the eye :
Thus the tall oaks, when boist'rous storms assail,
Torn from the earth, a mighty ruin lie.
Ye sacred sisters of the plaintive verse,
Now let the stream of fond affection flow;
O pay your tribute o'er the slow-drawn hearse,
With all the manly dignity of woe.
Oft when the Curfew tolls its parting knell
With solemn pause yon Church-yard's gloom survey,
While Sorrow's sighs and tears of Pity tell
How just the moral of the Poet's lay*.
O'er his green grave, in Contemplation's guise,
Oft let the pilgrim drop a silent tear ;
Oft let the shepherd's tender accents rise,
Big with the sweets of each revolving year ;
Till prostrate Time adore his deathless name,
Fix'd on the solid base of adamantine fame.
EPITAPH ON MR. GRAY'S MONUMENT,
No more the Grecian Muse unrivall❜d reigns;
To Britain let the nations homage pay!
She boasts a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray.
* Elegy in a Country Church-yard.
Printed by J. F. Dove, St. John's Square.