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Stretch'd on the bier Columbo lies ;
Pale are his cheeks, and clos'd his eyes ;
Thofe cheeks, where Beauty fmiling lay;
Thofe eyes, where Love was us'd to play.
Ah ! cruel Fate, alas ! how foon
That beauty and thofe joys are flown !

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Bear the fad found to diftant Woods ;
The found let Echo's voice reftore,
And fay, Columbo is no more,
** Ye Floods, ye Woods, ye Echoes, moan,
** My dear Columbo, dead and gone.**
The Dryads all forfook the wood,
And mournful Naiads round me ftood,
The tripping Fawns and Fairies came,
All confcious. of our mutual flame,
** To figh for him, with me to moan
** My dear Columbo, dead and gone.”
Venus difdain*d not to appear,
To lend my grief a friendly ear ;
But what avails her kindnefs now ?
She ne'er fhall hear my fecond vow :
The Loves, that round their Mother flew,
Pid in her face her forrows view ;
Their drooping wings they penfive hung,
Their arrows broke, their bows unftrung :
They heard attentive what I faid,
And wept, with me, Columbo dead :
** For him I figh, for him I moan,

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** *Tis ours to weep,” great Venus faid ; ** *Tis Jove's alone to be obey'd : ** Nor birds nor goddeffes can move ** The juft behefts offatal Jove : * I faw thy mate with fad regret, And curs* d the Fowler?s cruel net: Ah, dear Columbo ! how he fell, Whom Turturella lov*d fo well ! I faw him bleeding on the ground, The fight tore-up my ancient wound ; And, whilft you wept, alas ! I cry'd, Columbo, and Adonis dy'd.” ** Weep, all ye ftreams ; ye mountains, groan ; I mourn Columbo, dead and gone ; Still let my tender grief complain, ** Nor day nor night that grief reftrain :** I faid; and Venus ftill reply'd, ** Columbo and Adonis dy'd.” S. Poor Turturella, hard thy gafe, And jufl thy tears, alas, alas ! %T. And haft thou lov'd; and canft thou hear With piteous heart a lover's care? Come then, with me thy forrows join, And eafe my woes by telling thine: “ For thou, poor bird, perhaps may'ft moan “ Some Pafferella dead and gone.” §. Dame Turtle, this runs foft in rhyme, But neither fuits the place nor time ; The Fowler's hand, whofe cruel care For dear Columbo fet the fnare,

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The fmare again for thee may fet ;
'Two birds may perifh in one net :
"Thou fhould* ft avoid this cruel field,
And forrow fhould to prudence yield.
*Tis fad to die !
7. — It may be fo;
*Tis fadder yet, to live in woe.
S. When widows ufe this canting ftrain,
They feem refolv'd to wed again. **
QT. When widowers would this truth difprove,
'They never tafted real love.
S. Love is foft joy and gentle ftrife,
His efforts afl depend on life :
When he has throwm two goldem darts,
And ftruck the lovers* mutual hearts ;
Of his black fhafts let Death fend one,
Alas ! the pleafing game is done ;

Ill is the poor furvivor fped,

A corpfe feels mighty cold in bed.
Venus faid right—** nor tears can move,
** Nor plaints revoke the will of Jove.**
A 11 muft obey the general doom,
Down from Alcides to Tom Thumb.
Crim Pluto will not be withftood
By force or craft. Tall Robinhood,
As well as Little John, is dead
(You fee how deeply I am read)
With Fate's lean tipftaf none can dodge,
£e'll find you out where'er your lodge.

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Ajax, to fhun his general power,
In vain abfconded in a flower ;
An idle fcene Tythonus a&ted,
When to a grafshopper contra&ted ;
Death ftruck them in thofe fhapes again,
As once he did when they were men.

For reptiles perifh, plants decay ;
Flefh is but grafs, grafs turns to hay; - 3
And hay to dung, and dung to elay.

Thus heads extremely nice difcover,
That folks may die fome ten times over ;
But oft', by too refin'd a touch,
To prove things plain, they prove too much.
Whate'er Pythagoras may fay *
(For each, you know, will have his way),
With great fubmiffion I pronounce,
That people die no more than once :
But once is fure : and death is common
To Bird and Man, including Womam;
From the Spread Eagle to the Wren,
Alas ! no mortal fowl knows when ;
All that wear feathers firft or laft
Muft one day perch on Charon's maft ;
Muft lie beneath the cyprefs fhade,
Where Strada's Nightingale was laid ;
Thofe fowl who feem alive to fit,
Affembled by Dan Chaucer's wit,
In profe have flept three hundred years:
Exempt from worldly hopes and fears,

And,

And, laid in ftate upon their hearfe,
Are truly but embalm'd in verfe ;
As fure as Lefbia's Sparrow I,
Thou fure as Prior's Dove, * muft die,
And ne'er again from Lethe's ftreams,
Return to Adige, or to Thames.
%T. I therefore weep Columbo dead,
My hopes bereav'd, my pleafures fled;
** I therefore muft for ever moan
** My dear Columbo dead and gone.”
S. Columbo never fees your tears,
Your cries Columbo never hears ;
A wall of brafs, and one of lead,
Divide the living from the dead.
Repell'd by this, the gather'd rain
Oftears beats back to earth again ;
In t* other the colle£ted found
Of groans, when once receiv'd, is drown'd.
*Tis therefore vain one hour to grieve,
What Time itfelf can ne'er retrieve.
By nature foft, I know a Dove
Can never live without her Love ;
Then quit this flame, and light another ;
IDame, I advife you like a brother.
%T. What, I to make a fecond choice !
In other nuptials to rejoice!
S. Why not, my bird ? -
QT. No, Sparrow, no!
Let me indulge my pleafing woe :

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