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Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure'; / Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile', /
The short, and simple annals of the poor. I The boast of her aldry, | the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, I all that wealth', e'er gave, Await, alike, the inevitable hour,
1 The paths of glory ,, lead, but to the grave. I Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, /
If mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise', 1 Where, through the long-drawn aisle, and fretted vault', |
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise Can storied urn, or animated bust', |
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can, honour's voice provoke the silent dust', |
Or flattery, soothe , the dull, cold ear of death, ? | Perhaps in this neglected spot, is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire'; 1.
Or wak’d to ecstasy the living lyre. |
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll. ; ]
And froze the genial current of the soul. 1 Full many a gem of purest ray serene',
The dark, unfathom'd caves of o'cean, bear: ; ) Full many a flower, is born to blush unseen',
And waste its sweetness on the desert air,. Some village Hampden that, with dauntless breast', |
The little tyrant of his fields withstood. ; | Some mute, inglorious Milton, here may rest';
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. I
a Desert air; not dez-zer-tair.
The applause of list’ning senates to command', |
The threats of pain, and ruin to despise', ] To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land',
And read their histry in a nation's eyes', | Their lot forbade. - | nor circumscrib'd alone i
Their growing virtues; but, their crimes'confin'd', / Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne', !
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind;
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame', /
With incense , kindled at the muse's flame. I Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife', !
('Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray',) * Along the cool, sequester'd vale of life', |
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way, I
Yet e'en these bones, from insult to protect', |
Some frail memorial still', erected nigh', ] With uncouth rhymes, and shapeless sculpture deck'd',
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh: 1 Their names', their years', spell’d by the unletter'd muse',
The place of fame, and elegy, supply ; | And many a holy text around she strews', I
That teach the rustic moralist to die. I For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey', /
This pleasing, anxious being , e'er resign'd', Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day', 1
Nor cast one longing, ling’ring look behind, ? | On some fond breast, the parting soul relies'; }
Some pious drops, the closing eye requires ; | E'en from the tomb the voice of nature, cries', |
E'en in our ash'es live their wonted fires. 1
For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead', i
Dost in these lines their artless tale, relate', 1 If, chance, by lonely contemplation led',
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate',
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say',
“Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn', | Brushing, with hasty step, the dews away', /
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. I There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech', !
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high', / His listless length at noontide would he stretch',
And pore upon the brook that bubbles by. I Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn', |
Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove'; / Now droop'ing, wo'ful, wanı, I like one forlorn', !
Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
One morn I miss'd him on the accustom'd hill', |
Along the heath', and near his fav’rite tree ; i Another came ; | nor yet beside the rill', i
Nor up the lawn, I nor at the wood' was he. I
The next, with dirges due, in sad array', /
borne Approach, and read' ('for thou canst read') the lay',
Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."
Here rests 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 soul, sincere - -l
Heaven did a recompense as largely send, 1 He gave to Mis'ry all he had', a tear; / He gain'd from Heavı'nI ('t was all he wish'd') | a
friend. I No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, | (There they alike in trembling hope repose') 1
2 The bosom of his father, and his God. 1
DOUGLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
my bow had pierc'd their chief
That our good king had summond his bold peers |
Journeying with this intent, I pass'd these towers,
THE GRAVE OF FRANKLIN.
(MISS C. H. WATERMAN.)
No sculptur'd scroll enrolls its page |
Where rests the patriot, and the sage: 1
A corner holds thy sacred clayı ;
Have worn a path that marks the way. I
Encroaching on its marble gray', ]
And sunbeams pour their shadeless ray.1
And hidden oft by winter's snow 1
Whose dust it is that sleeps below .* |
No aid from eulogy requires : 1
And flashes round her lightning spires. I
* The body of Franklin lies in Christ-Church burying-ground, corner of Mulberry and Fifth street, Philadelphia. The inscription upon his tomb-stone is as follows:
FRANKLIN 26 *