Ah, generous youth, that wish forbear,

170

The winds too foon will waft thee here!
Slack all thy fails, and fear to come,
Alas, thou know'ft not, thou art wreck'd at
home!

No more fhalt thou behold thy fifter's face,
Thou haft already had her laft embrace.
But look aloft, and if thou ken'ft from far
Among the Pleiads a new-kindled ftar,
If any sparkles than the reft more bright;
Tis the that shines in that propitious light.

X.

175

When in mid-air the golden trump fhall found,

To raise the nations under ground:
When in the valley of Jehofophat,

180

The judging God shall close the book of fate ;
And there the laft affizes keep,

For those who wake, and those who sleep:
When rattling bones together fly,

From the four corners of the fky;

185

When finews o'er the skeletons are spread, Those cloth'd with flesh, and life inspires the

dead;

The facred poets first shall hear the found,

And foremoft from the tomb fhall bound, For they are cover'd with the lightest ground And straight, with in-born vigour, on the wing, Like mounting larks, to the new morning fing.

}

There thou, fweet faint, before the quire fhall go,

As harbinger of heaven, the way to fhow,

The way which thou fo well haft learnt

below.

195

UPON THE DEATH

OF THE

EARL OF DUNDEE.

OH laft and beft of Scots! who didst maintain Thy country's freedom from a foreign reign; New people fill the land now thou art gone, New gods the temples, and new kings the throne.

Scotland and thee did each in other live;

Nor would't thou her, nor could fhe thee fur

vive.

Farewell, who dying didst support the state, And couldft not fall but with thy country's fate.

Ver. 1. Oh luft and beft] The conduct and death of this truly valiant chieftain is defcribed with much eloquence and animation in his account of the important battle at Killikranky, by Sir John Dalrymple, in the firft volume of his Memoirs. Dundee, being wounded by a mufket-ball, rode off the field, defiring his mifchance to be concealed, and fainting, dropped from his horfe; as foon as he was recovered, he defired to be raised, looked to the field, and asked, " How things went ?" Being told, "All well;" then faid he, "I am well," and expired. Dr. J. WARton.

ELEONORA;

A

PANEGYRICAL POEM,

DEDICATED TO

THE MEMORY

OF THE LATE

COUNTESS OF ABINGDON.