VERSES

TO THE MEMORY OF DR. LLOYD.

Translated from the Latin as spoken at the Westminster Election next after his decease.

OUR good old friend is gone,-gone to his rest,
Whose social converse was itself a feast.

O ye of riper age, who recollect

How once ye loved, and eyed him with respect,
Both in the firmness of his better day,

with a father's sway,

While yet he ruled you
And when, impaired by time, and glad to rest,
Yet still, with looks in mild complacence drest,
He took his annual seat, and mingled here
His sprightly vein with yours-now drop a tear.
In morals blameless as in manners meek,
He knew no wish that he might blush to speak,
But, happy in whatever state below,

And richer than the rich in being so,

Obtain'd the hearts of all, and such a meed
At length from One,* as made him rich indeed.
Hence, then, ye titles, hence, not wanted here,
Go, garnish merit in a brighter sphere,-
The brows of those whose more exalted lot

He could congratulate, but envied not.

Light lie the turf, good Senior! on thy breast, And tranquil as thy mind was, be thy rest! Though, living, thou hadst more desert than fame, And not a stone, now, chronicles thy name.

He was usher and under-master of Westminster near fifty years, and retired from his occupation when he was near seventy, with a handsome pension from the King.

EPITAPH

ON MRS. M. HIGGINS, OF WESTON.

[1791.]

LAURELS may flourish round the conqueror's tomb,
But happiest they who win the world to come :
Believers have a silent field to fight,

And their exploits are veil'd from human sight.
They, in some nook, where, little known, they dwell,
Kneel, pray in faith, and rout the hosts of hell;
Eternal triumphs crown their toils divine,
And all those triumphs, Mary, now are thine.

EPITAPH ON "FOP,"

A DOG BELONGING TO LADY THROCKMORTON.

[August, 1792.]

THOUGH Once a puppy, and though Fop by name, Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim.

No sycophant, although of spaniel race,

And, though no hound, a martyr to the chase

Ye squirrels, rabbits, leverets, rejoice,

Your haunts no longer echo to his voice;
This record of his fate exulting view,
He died worn out with vain pursuit of you.

"Yes,"―the indignant shade of Fop replies— "And worn with vain pursuit man also dies."

EPITAPH ON A HARE.

HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Nor swifter greyhound follow,Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew, Nor ear heard huntsman's hollo';

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night,

He did it with a jealous look,

And, when he could, would bite.

His diet was of wheaten bread,

And milk, and oats, and straw ;

Thistles, or lettuces instead,

With sand to scour his maw.

On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
On pippins' russet peel,

And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he loved to bound,-
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.

His frisking was at evening hours,
For then he lost his fear,

But most before approaching showers,
Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years, and five round-rolling moons,

He thus saw steal away,

Dozing out all his idle noons,

And every night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile

My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.

But now, beneath this walnut shade
He finds his long last home,
And waits, in snug concealment laid,
Till gentler Puss shall come :

He, still more aged, feels the shocks
From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,

Must soon partake his grave.

LINES,

Composed for a Memorial of ASHLEY COWPER, Esq., immediately after his death, by his Nephew WILLIAM, of Weston.

[June, 1788.]

FAREWELL! endued with all that could engage
All hearts to love thee, both in youth and age!
In prime of life, for sprightliness enroll'd
Among the gay, yet virtuous as the old;
In life's last stage (O! blessings rarely found),
Pleasant as youth with all its blossoms crown'd;
Through every period of this changeful state
Unchanged thyself-wise, good, affectionate!

Marble may flatter; and, lest this should seem
O'ercharged with praises on so dear a theme,
Although thy worth be more than half suppress'd,
Love shall be satisfied, and veil the rest.