One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favʼrite tree; < Another came; nor yet befide the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. ‹ The next with dirges due in fad array, • Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'ft read) the lay, Grav'd on the ftone beneath yon aged thorn.

• There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unfeen, are fhow'rs of violets found;
The red-breaft loves to build and warble there,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground.

THE EPITAPH.

"Here refts his head upon the lap of earth "A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: "Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, “And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

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Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere, "Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend: "He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear: "He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. "No farther feek his merits to disclose,

“Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repofe)

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" The bofom of his Father and his God.

ON THE DEATH OF

FREDERIC PRINCE OF WALES.

WRITTEN AT PARIS, BY DAVID LORD VISCOUNT STORMONT, OF CH. CH. OXON.

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ITTLE I whilom deem'd, my artless zeal

Should woo the British Muse in foreign land To ftrains of bitter argument, and teach

The mimic Nymph, that haunts the winding verge And oozy current of Parifian Seine,

To fyllable new founds in accent strange.

But fad occafion calls: who now forbears The laft kind office? who but confecrates His off'ring at the fhrine of fair Renown To gracious FREDERIC rais'd; tho' but compos'd Of the wafte flourets, whofe neglected hues Chequer the lonely hedge, or mountain flope?

Where are thofe hopes, where fled th' illufive fcenes That forgeful Fancy plan'd, what time the bark Stem'd the falt wave from Albion's chalky bourn? Then filial Piety and parting Love

Pour'd the fond pray'r; "Farewell, ye less'ning "cliffs,

"Fairer to me, than ought in fabled song "Or myftic record told of fhores Atlantic! "Favour'd of heav'n, farewell! imperial ifle, "Native to nobleft wits, and best approv'd "In manly fcience, and advent'rous deed! "Celestial Freedom, by rude hand estrang'd "From regions once frequented, with Thee takes "Her ftedfast station, fast beside the throne "Of fcepter'd Rule, and there her state maintains "In focial concord, and harmonious love. "Thefe bleffings ftill be thine, nor medling fiend "Stir in your busy streets foul Faction's roar; "Still thrive your growing works, and gales propitious "Vifit your fons who ride the watry waste; "And still be heard from forth your gladfome bow'rs "Shrill tabor-pipes, and ev'ry peaceful found.

"Nor vain the wish, while GEORGE the golden scale "With steady prudence holds, and temp'rate sway. "And when his course of earthly honour's run, "With lenient hand shall FREDERIC footh your care, "Rich in each princely quality, mature

“In years, and happiest in nuptial choice. "Thence too arise new hopes, a playful troop "Circles his hearth, fweet pledges of that bed, "Which Faith, and Joy, and thousand Virtues guard. "His be the care t' inform their ductile minds

With worthieft thoughts, and point the ways of "honour,

"How often fhall he hear with fresh delight "Their earnest tales, or watch their rifing paffions "With timorous attention; then shall tell "Of justice, fortitude, and public weal, "And oft the while each rigid precept smooth "With winning tokens of parental love!"

Thus my o'erweening heart the fecret stores Of Britain's hope explor'd, while my ftrain'd fight Purfued her fading hills, till wrapt in mift They gently funk behind the fwelling tide. Nor flept those thoughts, whene'er in other climes I mark'd the cruel waste of foul oppreffion, Saw nobleft fpirits, and goodlieft faculties, To vaffalage and loathsome service bound. Then confcious preference rofe; then northward turn'd

My eye, to gratulate my natal foil.

How have I chid with froward eagerness
Each veering blast, that from my hand witheld
The well-known characters of fome lov'd friend,
Tho' diftant not unmindful? Still I learn'd
Delighted, what each patriot plan devis'd
Of arts, or glory, or diffufive commerce.
Nor wanted its endearment every tale
Of lightest import. But oh! heavy change,
What notices come now? Diftracted fcenes
Of helpless forrow, folemn fad accounts ;
How fair AUGUSTA watch'd the weary night

Tending the bed of anguish; how great GEORGE
Wept with his infant progeny around;

How heav'd the orphan's and the widow's figh,
That follow'd FREDERIC to his filent tomb.

For well was FREDERIC lov'd, and well deferv'd; His voice was ever sweet, and on his steps Attended ever the alluring grace

Of gentle lowlinefs and focial zeal.
Him fhall remember oft the labour'd hind,
Relating to his mates each cafual act
Of courteous bounty. Him th' artificer,
Plying the varied woof in fullen sadness,
Tho' wont to carol many a ditty sweet.
Soon too the mariner, who many moons
Has counted, beating still the foamy furge,
And treads at laft the wish'd-for beach, fhall stand
Appall'd at the fad tale, and foon shall steal
Down his rough cheek th' involuntary tear.
Be this our folace yet; all is not dead;
The bright memorial lives: from his example
Shall Hymen trim his torch, domestic praise
Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer fhew.
In age fucceeding when another GEORGE,
To ratify fome weighty ordinance

Of Britain's peers conven'd, fhall pass befide
Those hallow'd fpires, whose gloomy vaults enclose,
Shrouded in fleep, pale rows of scepter'd kings,
Oft to his fenfe the sweet paternal voice

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