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No drugs the kindly with fulfil,
Disease eludes the doctor's skill:
The poison spreads through all the frame,
Ferments, and kindles into flame.
From side to side Honorio turns,
And now with thirst insatiate burns :
His eyes resign their wonted grace,
Those friendly lamps expire apace!
The brain's an useless organ grown,
And Reason tumbled from his throne.

But while the purple surges glow,
The currents thicken as they flow :
The blood in ev'ry distant part,
Stagnates and disappoints the heart;
Defrauded of it's crimson store,
The vital engine plays no more.

Honorio dead, the fun'ral bell
Call'd ev'ry friend to bid farewel.
I join'd the melancholy bier,
And dropp'd the unavailing tear.

The clock struck twelve--when nature sought
Repose from all the pangs of thought ;
And while my limbs were sunk to rest,
A vision footh'd

my

troubled breast.
I dream'd the spectre, Death, appear'd!
I dream'd his hollow voice I heard !.
Methought th’imperial tyrant wore
A ftate no prince assum'd before :
All nature fetch'd a gen’ral groan,
And lay expiring round his throne.

I gaz'd-when straight arose to fight,
The most detefted fiend of night.
He shuffled with unequal pace,
And conscious shame deform'd his face.
With jealous leer he squinted round,
Or fix'd his eyes upon the ground,

From hell this frightful monster came,
Sin was his fire, and Guilt his name,

This fury, with officious care,
Waited around the fou'reign's chair ;
In robes of terrors dress’d the king,
And arm’d him with a baneful sting;
Gave fierceness to the tyrant's eye,
And hung the sword upon his thigh,
Diseases next, a hideous crowd!
Proclaim'd their master's empire loud ;
And, all obedient to his will,
Flew in commission'd troops to kill.'

A rifing whirlwind fhakes the poles,
And lightning glares, and thunder rolls.
The monarch and his train prepare
To range the foul tempestuous air,
Straight to his shoulders he applies
Two pinions of enormous fize!
Methought I saw the ghastly form
Stretch his black wings, and mount the storm:
When Fancy's airy horse I strode,
And join'd the army on the road.
As the grim conq’ror urg'd his way,
He scatter'd terror and dismay.
Thousands a penfive aspect wore,
Thousands who sneer'd at death before.
Life's records rise on ev'ry side,
And Conscience spreads those volumes wide ;
Which faithful registers were brought
By pale-ey'd Fear and busy Thought.
Those faults which artful men conceal,
Stand here engrav'd with pen of steel,
By Conscience, that impartial scribe !
Whofe honest palm disdains a bribe:
Their actions all like criticks view,
And all like faithful criticks too,

As

As Guilt had stain'd life's various stage,
What tears of blood bedew'd the page !
All shudder'd at the black account,
And scarce believ'd the vast amount !
All vow'd a sudden change of heart,
Would Death relent, and sheathe his dart.
But, when the awful foe withdrew,
All to their follies fled anew.

So when a wolf, who scours at large,
Springs on the shepherd's fleecy charge,
The flock in wild disorder fly,
And caft behind a frequent eye ;
But when the victim's borne away,
They rush to pasture and to play.

Indulge my dream, and let my pen
Paint those unmeaning creatures, men.

Carus, with pain and sickness worn, Chides the flow night, and fighs for morn. Soon as he views the eastern ray, He mourns the quick return of day; Hourly laments protracted breath, And courts the healing hand of Death.

Verres, oppress'd with guilt and shame, Shipwreck'd in fortune, health, and fame, Pines for his dark sepulchral bed, To mingle with th' unheeded dead.

With fourscore years grey Natho bends, A burden to himself and friends ; And with impatience seems to wait The friendly hand of ling’ring Fate. So hirelings with their labour done, And often eye the western sun.

The monarch hears their various grief, Descends, and brings the wish'd relief. On Death, with wild surprize they star'd, All seem'd averse! all unprepar'd !

As torrents sweep with rapid force,
The grave's pale chief pursu'd his course.
No human pow'r can or withstand,
Or shun the conquests of his hand.
Oh! could the prince of upright mind,
And, as a guardian angel, kind,
With ev'ry heart-felt worth beside,
Turn the keen shaft of Death aside, .
When would the brave Augustus join
The ashes of his sacred line!
But Death maintains no partial war,
He mocks a sultan, or a czar :
He lays his iron hand on all-
Yes, kings, and sons of kings, muft fall!
A truth Britannia lately felt,
And trembled to her centre-*!

Could ableft statesmen ward the blow,
Would Granville own this common foe;
For greater talents ne'er were known
To grace the fav’rite of a throne.

Could genius save-wit, learning, fire-
Tell me, would Chesterfield expire !
Say, would his glorious sun decline,
And set like your pale itar or mine?

Could ev'ry virtue of the sky
Would Herring t, Butler I, Secker|l, die !

Why this address to peerage all-
Untitled Allen's virtues call!
If Allen's worth demands a place,
Lords, with your leave, 'tis no disgrace.
Tho' high your ranks in heralds' rolls,
Know, Virtue, too, ennobles fouls.

Referring to the death of his late Royal Highness Frederick Prince of Wales.

+ Archbishop of Canterbury.
| Late Bishop of Durham.
# Bishop of Oxford.

By

By her that private man's renown'd,
Who pours a thousand blesings round.
While Allen takes Ami&tion's part,
And draws out all his gen'rous heart;
Anxious to seize the fleeting day,
Left unimprov'd it'steals away:
While thus he walks, with jealous ftrife,
Thro' goodness, as he walks thro' life,
Shall not I mark his radiant path!
Rise, Muse, and sing the Man of Bath!
Publish abroad, could Goodness fave,
Allen would disappoint the grave;
Translated to the heav'nly fhore,
Like Enoch, when his walk was o'er.

Nor Beauty's pow'rful pleas restrain
Her pleas are trifling, weak, and vain ;
For women pierce with shrieks the air,
Smite their bare breasts, and rend their hair ;
All have a doleful tale to tell,
How friends, fons, daughters, husbands fell!

Alas! is life our fav’rite theme
"Tis all a vain or painful dream :
A dream which fools or cowards prize,
But flighted by the brave or wise.
Who lives, for others ills must groan,
Or bleed for forrows of his own ;
Must journey on with weeping eye,
Then pant, sink, agonize, and die.

• And shall a man arraign the skies,
• Because man lives, and mourns, and dies ?'
• Impatient reptile ! Reason cry'd;

Arraign thy passion and thy pride: • Retire, and commune with thy heart; 6 Alk, whence thou cam'ft, and what thou art! . Explore thy body and thy mind,

Thy ftation too, why here align'd,

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