Whofe government ne'er ftood me in a tear;
All weeping was referv'd to spend it here.

He pluck'd from youth the follies and the crimes
And built up men against the future times;

For deeds of age are in their causes then,

And though he taught but boys, he made the men.
Hence 'twas, a master, in those ancient days
When men fought knowledge first,and by it praise,
Was a thing full of reverence, profit, fame;
Father itself was but a fecond name.
And if a Mufe hereafter fmile on me,
And fay, "Be thou a poet," men shall fee
That none could a more grateful scholar have;
For what I ow'd his life, I'll pay his grave [1].

IV.

On the Death of Mr. WILLIAM HERVEY [m].

I

"Immodicis brevis eft ætas, & rara fenectus."

I.

MART. L. VI. Ep. xxix.

T was a difmal, and a fearful night,
Scarce could the morn drive on th'unwilling light,

[1] The reft of this poem (one of those which were written, as he says, when he was very young) is fuppreffed. [m] Mr. William Hervey.] The author's beloved

When fleep, death's image, left my troubled breast,
By fomething, liker death, poffeft.
My eyes with tears did uncommanded flow,
And on my foul hung the dull weight

Of fome intolerable fate.

What bell was that? Ah me! too much I know.

2.

My fweet companion, and my gentle peer,
Why haft thou left me thus unkindly here,
Thy end for ever, and my life to moan;

O thou haft left me all alone!

Thy foul and body, when death's agony
Befieg'd, around, thy noble heart,
Did not with more reluctance part,
Than I, my dearest friend, do part from thee.

3.

My dearest friend, would I had dy'd for thee [n]! Life and this world henceforth will tedious be.

friend.This poem came from the heart, and is therefore more natural and pleafing than most others in the collection. Unluckily, it occafioned the poet's introduction to Lord St. Albans [fee Life, p. 8]; that is, it ruined his fortune.

33.

[n]--would I had dy'd for thee !] From 2 Sam, xviii

Nor fhall I know hereafter what to do,
If once my griefs prove tedious too.
Silent and fad I walk about all day,

As fullen ghosts stalk speechless by,
Where their hid treasures lye:

Alas, my treasure's gone; why do I stay?

4.

He was my friend, the trueft friend on earth;
Aftrong and mighty influence join'd our birth [].
Nor did we envy the most founding name
By friendship giv'n of old to fame.

None but his brethren he, and fifters knew,
Whom the kind youth preferr'd to me:
And ev❜n in that we did agree;

For much above myself I lov'd them, too.

Say, for you faw us, ye immortal lights,
How oft unwearied have we spent the nights;
Till the Ledæan ftars, fo fam'd for love,
Wonder'd at us from above!

[o] —join'd our birth.] In this and the following ftanza the poet has copied Perfius, Sat. v. ; but with freedom and spirit.

We

We spent them not in toys, in lufts, or wine; But search of deep philosophy,

Wit, eloquence, and poetry,

Arts which I lov'd, for they, my friend, were thine.

6.

Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, fay,
Have you not feen us walking every day?

Was there a tree about, which did not know
The love betwixt us two?

Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade;
Or your fad branches thicker join,
And into darkfome fhades combine,
Dark, as the grave, wherein my friend is laid.

7.

Henceforth, no learned youths beneath you fing, Till all the tuneful birds to'your boughs they bring: No tuneful birds play with their wonted chear, And call the learned youths to hear;

No whistling winds through the glad branches fly; But all with fad folemnity,

Mute and unmoved be,

Mute as the grave, wherein my friend does lye.

8.

To him my Mufe made hafte with every ftrain,
Whilft it was new, and warm.yet from the brain,
He lov'd my worthlefs rhimes, and like a friend[p],
Would find out fomething to commend.
Hence now, my Mufe, thou canst not me delight;
Be this my latest verse

With which I now adorn his hearse;
And this my grief, without thy help, shall write,

9.

Had I a wreath of bays about my brow,
I fhould contemn that flourishing honour now,
Condemn it to the fire, and joy to hear

It rage and crackle there.

Inftead of bays, crown with fad cypress me ;
Cyprefs, which tombs does beautify:
Not Phoebus griev'd fo much as I,

For him, who firft was made that mournful tree,

[p]—like a friend]

"each finding, like a friend,

"Something to blame, and fomething to commend."

Pope, to Mr. Jervas. 10. Large