LOST too early! and too lately known!
My love's intended marks receive in one;
Where, new to eafe, and recent from thy pains,
With ampler joy thou tread'st the blissful plains:
If there, regardful of the ways of men,
Thou feeft with pity, what thou once haft been,
O gentle fhade! accept this humble verse,
Amidst the meaner honours of thy hearse.
How does thy Phocyas warm Britannia's youth,
In arms to glory, and in love to truth!
Oh! if the Mufe of future aught prefage,
These feeds shall ripen in the coming age;
Then youths, renown'd for many a field well-fought, Shall own the glorious leffons thou haft taught; Honour's ftrict laws fhall reign in every mind,
And every Phocyas his Eudocia find.
O! yet be this the loweft of thy fame,
To form the hero, and inftruct the dame;
I fee the chriftian, friend, relation, fon,
Burn for the glorious course that thou hast run. 20 If aught we owe thy pencil, or thy lyre,
Of manly ftrokes, or of fuperior fire,
How muft thy Muse be ever own'd divine,
And in the facred lift unrival'd shine!
Nor joyous health was thine, nor downy ease;
To thee forbidden was the foft recefs;
Worn with difeafe, and never ceafing pain,
How firmly did thy foul her feat maintain !
Early thy fide the mortal fhaft receiv'd,
All, but the wounded hero, faw and griev❜d.
No fenfe of fmart, no anguish, could control,
Or turn the generous purpofe of his foul.
Witness ye nobler arts, by heaven defign'd
To charm the fenfes, and improve the mind,
How through your mazes, with inceffant toil,
He urg'd his way to reap th' immortal spoil!
So fabled Orpheus tun'd his potent fong,
Death's circling fhades and Stygian glooms among.
Of thy great labours this, the last * and chief,
At once demands our wonder, and our grief;
Thy foul in clouded majefty till now,
Its finifh'd beauties did but partly show,
Wondering we faw difclos'd the ample store,
Griev'd in that inftant, to expect no more.
So in the evening of fome doubtful day, And clouds divided with a mingled ray, Haply the golden fun unveils his light, And his whole glories fpreads at once to fight ;' Th' enliven'd world look up with gladfome chear, Blefs the gay fcene, nor heed the night fo near; Sudden, the lucent orb drops fwiftly down Through weitern fkies, to fhine in worlds unknown. March 28, 1720.
ROM thy long languishing, and painful ftrife
Of breath and labour drawn, and wasting life,
Accomplish'd fpirit! thou at length art free,
Born into blifs and immortality!
Thy ftruggles are no more; the palm is won;
Thy brows encircled with the victor's crown;
While lonely left, and desolate below,
Full grief I feel, and all a BROTHER'S woe!
Yet would I linger on, a little space,
Before I close my quick-expiring race,
Till I have gather'd up, with grateful pains,
Thy WORKS, thy dear unperishing remains;
An undecaying MONUMENT to stand,
Rais'd to thy name by thy own skilful hand.
Then let me wing from earth my willing way,
To meet thy foul in blaze of living day,
Rapt to the skies, like thee, with joyful flight,
An inmate of the heavens, adopted into light!
30 March, 1720.
JABEZ HUGHES.
Ob. 17 Jan. 1731.
Anno Æt. 46.
MMORTAL Bard! though from the world retir'd,
Still known to fame, till honour'd, and admir'd! While, fill'd with joy, in happier realms you stray,
And dwell in manfions of eternal day;
While you, confpicuous through the heavenly choir, 5
With fwelling rapture tune the chosen lyre ;
Where echoing angels the glad notes prolong,
Or with attentive filence crown your fong;
Forgive the Mufe that in unequal lays
Offers this humble tribute of her praife.
Loft in thy works, how oft I pass the day,
While the swift hours fteal unperceiv'd away ;
There, in fweet union, wit and virtue charm,
And nobleft fentiments the bofom warm;
The brave, the wife, the virtuous, and the fair,
May view themselves in fadeless colours there.
Through every polish'd piece correctnefs flows.
Yet each bright page with sprightly fancy glows;
Oh! happy elegance, where thus are join'd
A folid judgment, and a wit refin'd!
Here injur'd Phocyas and Eudocia claim
A lafting pity and a lafting fame :
Thy heroine's fofter virtues charm the fight,
And fill our fouls with ravishing delight.
Exalted love and dauntless courage meet,
To make thy hero's character compleat.
This finish'd piece the nobleft pens commend ;
And ev❜n the critics are the poet's friend.
Led on by thee, those * flowery paths I view,
For ever lovely, and for ever new,
Where all the Graces with joint force engage,
To ftem th' impetuous follies of the age:
Virtue, there deck'd in ever-blooming charms,
With fuch refiftless rays of beauty warms,
That Vice, abafh'd, confounded, skulks away,
As night retires at dawn of rofy day.
Struck with his guilt, the hardy Atheist dreads
Approaching fate, and trembles as he reads
Vanquish'd by reafon, yet afham'd to fly,
He dares not own a God, nor yet deny :
Convinc'd, though late, forgiveness he implores;
Shrinks from the jaws of hell, and heaven adores.
Hither the wild, the frolick, and the gay,
As thoughtless through their wanton rounds they stray,
Compell'd by fame, repair with curious eye,
And their own various forms with wonder spy.
The cenfor fo polite, fo kindly true,
They fee their faults, and ficken at the view.
Hence trifling Damon ceases to be vain ;
And Cloe fcorns to give her lover pain
Strephon is true, who ne'er was true before
And Cælia bids him love, but not adore.
Though ADDISON and STEELE the honour claim,
Here to stand foremost on the lift of fame ;
Yet ftill the traces of thy hand we fee,
Some of the brightest thoughts are due to thee.
* Alluding to the Spectators written by Mr. Hughes.
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