UPON

YOUNG MR. ROGERS,

OF

GLOUCESTERSHIRE.

OF gentle blood, his parents' only treasure, Their lafting forrow, and their vanish'd pleafure,

Adorn'd with features, virtues, wit, and grace, A large provision for so short a race;

More moderate gifts might have prolong'd his date,

Too early fitted for a better ftate;
But, knowing heaven his home, to fhun delay,
He leap'd o'er age, and took the shortest way.

5

They strain their warbling throats,
To welcome in the fpring.

But in the clofe of night,

When Philomel begins her heavenly lay,

They cease their mutual fpite,
Drink in her music with delight,

And, lift'ning, filently obey.

II.

So ceas'd the rival crew, when Purcell came ; They fung no more, or only fung his fame: 11 Struck dumb, they all admir'd the godlike man: The godlike man,

Alas! too foon retired,
As he too late began.

15

We beg not hell our Orpheus to restore:
Had he been there,

Their fovereign's fear

Had fent him back before.

The power of harmony too well they knew: 20 He long ere this had tun'd their jarring fphere, And left no hell below.

III.

The heavenly choir, who heard his notes from

high,

Let down the scale of music from the sky:

They handed him along,

25

And all the way he taught, and all the way they fung.

Ye brethren of the lyre, and tuneful voice, Lament his lot; but at your own rejoice: Now live fecure, and linger out your days; The gods are pleas'd alone with Purcell's lays, Nor know to mend their choice,

81

EPITAPH

ON THE

LADY WHITMORE.

FAIR, Kind, and true, a treasure each alone,
A wife, a miftrefs, and a friend in one,
Reft in this tomb, rais'd at thy husband's coft,
Here fadly fumming, what he had, and loft.

Come, virgins, ere in equal bands ye join, 5 Come firft, and offer at her facred fhrine; Pray but for half the virtues of this wife, Compound for all the reft, with longer life; And with your vows, like hers, may be return'd, So lov'd when living, and when dead fo mourn'd.

10

EPITAPH

ON

SIR PALMES FAIRBONE'S TOMB

IN

WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.

Sacred to the immortal memory of Sir Palmes Fairbone, Knight, Governor of Tangier; in execution of which command, he was mortally wounded by a fhot from the Moors, then befieging the town, in the forty-fixth year of his age. October 24, 1680.

YE
E facred relics, which your marble keep,
Here, undisturb'd by wars, in quiet fleep:
Discharge the truft, which, when it was be-
low,

Fairbone's undaunted foul did undergo,
And be the town's Palladium from the foe. 5
Alive and dead thefe walls he will defend:
Great actions great examples must attend.
The Candian siege his early valour knew,
Where Turkish blood did his young hands im-

brue.