On the Death of his Highness the Duke of Glocester.

On the Death of his Highness the Duke of Glocester . 1. I'LE take my Leave of Business , Noise and Care , And trust this stormy Sea no more : Condemn'd to Toil , and fed with Air , I've often sighing look'd towards the Shore : And when the boistrous Winds did cease , And all was still , and all was Peace , Afraid of Calms , and flatt'ring Skies , On the deceitful Waves I fixt my Eyes , And on a sudden saw the threatning Billows rise : Then trembling beg'd the Pow'rs Divine , Some little safe Retreat might be for ever mine : O give , I cry'd , where e'er you please , Those Gifts which Mortals prize , Grown fond of Privacy and Ease , I now the gaudy Pomps of Life despise . Still let the Greedy strive with Pain , T'augment their shining Heaps of Clay ; And punish'd with the Thirst of Gain , Their Honour lose , their Conscience stain : Let th'ambitious Thrones desire And still with guilty hast aspire ; Thro' Blood and Dangers force their Way , And o'er the World extend their Sway , While I my time to nobler Uses give , And to my Books , and Thoughts entirely live ; Those dear Delights , in which I still shall find Ten thousand Joys to feast my Mind , Joys , great as Sense can bear , from all its Dross refin'd . 2. The Muse well pleas'd , my choice approv'd , And led me to the Shades she lov'd : To Shades , like those first fam'd Abodes Of happy Men , and rural Gods ; Where , in the World's blest Infant State , When all in Friendship were combin'd And all were just , and all were kind ; E're glitt'ring Show'rs , dispers'd by Jove , And Gold were made the Price of Love , The Nymphs and Swains did bless their Fate , And all their mutual Joys relate , Danc'd and sung , and void of Strife . Enjoy'd all Harmless Sweets of Life ; While on their tuneful Reeds their Poets play'd , And their chast Loves to future Times convey'd . 3. Cool was the place , and quiet as my Mind , The Sun cou'd there no Entrance find : No ruffling Winds the Boughs did move : The Waters gently crept along , As with their flowry Banks in Love : The Birds with soft harmonious Strains , Did entertain my Ear ; Sad Philomela sung her Pains , Express'd her Wrongs , and her Despair ; I listen'd to her mournful Song , The charming Warbler pleas'd , And I , me thought , with new Delight was seiz'd : Her Voice with tender'st Passions fill'd my Breast , And I felt Raptures not to be express'd ; Raptures , till that soft Hour unknown , My Soul seem'd from my Body flown : Vain World , said I , take , take my last adieu , I'le to my self , and to my Muse be true , And never more phantastick Forms pursue : Such glorious Nothings let the Great adore , Let them their airy Juno's court , I'le be deceiv'd no more , Nor to the Marts of Fame resort : From this dear Solitude no more remove , But here confine my Joy , my Hope , my Love . 4. Thus were my Hours in Extasies employ'd , And I the secret Sweets of Life enjoy'd : Serene , and calm , from every Pressure free , Inslav'd alone by flatt'ring Poesie : But Oh ! how pleasing did her Fetters prove ! How much did I , th' endearing Charmer Love ! No former Cares durst once my Soul molest , No past Unkindness discompos'd my Breast ; All was forgot , as if in Lethe's Stream I'd quench'd my Thirst , the past was all a Dream : But as I pleas'd my self with this unenvy'd state , Behold ! a wondrous Turn of Fate ! A hollow Melancholy Sound Dispers'd an awful Horror round , And hideous Groans thro' all the Grove resound Nature the dismal Noise did hear , Nature her self did seem to fear : The bleating Flocks lay trembling on the Plains ; The Brooks ran murmuring by , And Echo to their Murmurs made reply : The lofty Trees their verdant Honours shake ; The frighted Birds with hast their Boughs forsake , And for securer Seats to distant Groves repair . The much wrong'd Philomel durst now no more Her former Injuries deplore ; Forgot were all her moving Strains , Forgot each sweet melodious Air ; The weaker Passion , Grief , surrendred to her Fear . 5. A sudden Gloom its dusky Empire spread , And I was seiz'd with an unusual dread : Where e'er I look'd , each Object brought affright : And I cou'd only mournful Accents hear , Which from th' adjacent Hills did wound my Ear ; Th' adjacent Hills the gen'ral Horror share : Amaz'd I sat , depriv'd of all Delight , The Muse was fled , fled ev'ry pleasing Thought , And in their Room were black Ideas brought , By busie Fear , and active Fancy wrought . At length the doleful Sound drew near , And lo , the British Genius did appear ! Solemn his Pace , Dejected were his Eyes , And from his Breast thick thronging Sighs arise : The Tears ran down his venerable Face , And he with Lamentations loud fill'd all the sacred Place . 6. He's Dead he cry'd ! the young , the much belov'd ! From us too soon , Ah ! much too soon remov'd ! Snatch'd hence in his first Dawn , his Infant Bloom ! So fell Marcellus by a rigorous Doom . The Good , the Great , the Joy , the Pride of Rome ! But Oh ! he wants like him a Maro to rehearse His early worth in never dying Verse : To sing those rising Wonders which in him were seen , That Morning light which did it self display , Presaging earnest of a glorious Day ; His Face was Charming , and his Make Divine , As if in him assembl'd did combine The num'rous Graces of his Royal Line : Such was Ascanius , when from flaming Troy Pious Æneas led the lovely Boy , And such the God when to the Tyrian Queen A welcom Guest he came ; And in his Shape caress'd th' illustrious Dame And kindled in her Breast the inauspicious Flame . 7. But this , alas ! was but th' exterior part ; For the chief Beauties were within : There Nature shew'd her greatest Art , And did a Master-piece begin : But ah ! the Strokes were much too fine , Too delicate to last : Sweet was his Temper , generous his Mind , And much beyond his Years , to Martial Arts inclin'd : Averse to Softness , and for one so young , His Sense was manly , and his Reason strong : What e'er was taught him he would learn so fast As if 'twas his design When he to full Maturity was grown , Th' applauding World amaz'd should find What e'er was worthy to be known , He with the noblest Toil had early made his own . 8. Such , such was he , whose Loss I now lament ; O Heav'n ! why was this matchless Blessing sent ! Why but just shewn , and then , our Grief to raise , Cut off in the beginning of his Days ! Had you beheld th' afflicted Royal Pair Stand by that Bed , where the dear Suff'rer lay To his Disease a helpless Prey , And seen them gaze on the sad doubtful Strife , Between contending Death , and strugling Life , Observ'd those Passions which their Souls did move , Those kind Effects of tender'st Love ; Seen how their Joys a while did strive To keep their fainty Hopes alive , But soon alas ! were forc'd to yield To Grief and dire Despair , The short contested Field : And them in that curst Moment view'd , When by prevailing Death subdu'd , Breathless and pale , the beauteous Victim lay , When his unwilling Soul was forc'd away From that lov'd Body which it lately blest , That Mansion worthy so divine a Guest , You must have own'd , no Age could ever show A sadder Sight , a Scene of vaster Woe . 9. Sorrow like theirs , what Language can express ! Their All was lost , their only Happiness ! The good Ægeus could not more be griev'd When he the Sable Flag perceiv'd , Than was the Prince ; but we this difference find , The last was calmer , more resign'd , And had the stronger , more Majestick Mind : He knew Complaints could give him no Relief , And therefore cast a Veil upon his sullen Grief : Th' afflicted Princess could not thus controul The tender Motions of her troubled Soul : Unable to resist , she gave her Sorrows way , And did the Dictates of her Grief obey : Maternal Kindness still does preference claim , And always burns with a more ardent Flame : But sure no Heart was ever thus opprest , The Load is much too great to bear ; In sad Complaints are all her Minutes spent , And she lives only to lament : All soft Delights are Strangers to her Breast : His unexpected Fate does all her Thoughts ingross , And she speaks nothing but her mighty Loss . So mourn'd Andromache when she beheld Astyanax expos'd to lawless Pow'r , Precipitated from a lofty Tow'r : Depriv'd of Life the Royal Youth remain'd , And with the richest Trojan Blood the Pavement stain'd : Speechless she gaz'd , and by her Grief impell'd , Fearless amidst the Græcian Troops she run , And to her panting Bosom clasp'd her mangl'd Son. 10. As thus he spoke Britannia did appear , Attended by a Sylvan Throng , And with her brought the River Nymphs along : He's dead ! he's dead ! the Genius loudly cry'd , On whose dear Life you did so much depend , He's dead , He's dead , she mournfully reply'd : Heav'n would not long the mighty Blessing lend : Some envious Pow'r , who does my Greatness fear , Foreseeing if he shou'd to Manhood live , He'd glorious Proofs of wondrous Valor give : To distant Lands extend his Sway , And teach remotest Nations to obey : Resolv'd no pow'rful Art his Life should save , Nor I should longer my lov'd Gloucester have . No more they said , but to their Sighs gave way , The Nymphs and Swains all griev'd no less than they . He's dead ! he's dead ! they weeping said ; In his cold Tomb the lovely Youth is laid , And has too soon , alas ! too soon the Laws of Fate obey'd . No more , no more shall he these Groves adorn , No more by him shall flow'ry Wreaths be worn : No more , no more we now on him shall gaze , No more divert him with our rural Lays , Nor see him with a godlike Smile receive our humble Praise . Their loud Laments the Nereids hear , And full of Grief , and full of Fear , Their watry Beds in haste forsake ; And from their Locks the pearly Moisture shake : All with one Voice the much lov'd Youth lament , And in pathetic Strains their boundless Sorrow vent . 11. Upon the Ground I pensive lay ; Complain'd and wept as much as they : My Country's Loss became my own , And I was void of Comfort grown . He's dead ! he's dead ! with them I cry'd , And to each Sigh , each Groan reply'd . The Thracian Bard was not more mov'd , When he had lost the Fair he lov'd ; When looking back to please his Sight With all that could his Soul delight , He saw her sink int' everlasting Night . The Sorrows of the Princess pierc'd my Heart , And I , me thought , felt all her Smart : I wish'd I cou'd allay her Pain , Or part of her Affliction share ; But Oh ! such Wishes are in vain , She must alone the pond'rous Burthen bear . O Fate unjust ! I then did cry , Why must the young , the virtuous die ! Why in their Prime be snatch'd away , Like beauteous Flow'rs which soon decay , While Weeds enjoy the Warmth of each succeeding Day ? 12. While thus I mourn'd , a sudden Light the Place o'er spread Back to their genuine Night the frighted Shadows fled : Dilating Skies disclos'd a brighter Day , And for a glorious Form made way ; For the fam'd Guardian of our Isle : The wondrous Vision did with Pomp descend , With awful State his kind Approaches made , And thus with an obliging Smile To the much griev'd Britannia said , No more , my much lov'd Charge , no more Your time in useless Sorrows spend ; He's blest whose Loss you thus deplore : Above he lives a Life Divine , And does with dazling Splendor shine : I met him on th' Æthereal Shore , With Joy I did th' illustrious Youth embrace , And led him to his God-like Race , Who sit inthron'd in wondrous State , Above the Reach of Death or Fate : The Caledonian Chiefs were there , Who thro' the World have spread their Fame , And justly might immortal Trophies claim : A long Descent of glorious Kings , Who did , and suffer'd mighty things : With them the Danish Heroes were , Who long had ancient Kingdoms sway'd , And been by Warlike States obey'd : With them they did their Honours share , With them refulgent Crowns did wear , From all their Toils at length they cease , Blest with the Sweets of everlasting Peace . 13. Among the rest , that beauteous suff'ring Queen Who'd all the Turns of adverse Fortune seen ; Robb'd of a Crown , and forc'd to mourn in Chains , And on a Scaffold end her num'rous Pains , Receiv'd him with a cheerful Look , And to her Arms her dearest Off-spring took : Next came the martyr'd Prince , who liv'd to know The last Extremities of Woe : Expos'd unjustly to his People's hate , He felt the Rigor of remorseless Fate . Virtue and spotless Innocence , Alas ! are no Defence : They rather to the Rage expose Of bloody and relentless Foes : Too fierce they shine , too glaring bright , The Vicious cannot bear their Light . Next came his Son , who long your Sceptre sway'd , And whom his Subjects joyfully obey'd ; Then last of all the fair Maria came , Who lately grac'd the British Throne ; And there with a reviving Splendor shone , But made a short , a transient Stay , By Death from all her Glories snatch'd away : How vain is Beauty , Wealth , or Fame , How few the Trophies of a boasted Name ! Death can't be brib'd , be won by none : To Slaves and Kings a Fate a like , a like Regard is shown . 14. All these the lovely Youth carest , And welcom'd him to their eternal Rest : Welcome , they said , to this our blissful Shore , To never ending Joys , and Seats Divine , To Realms where clear unclouded Glories shine , Here you may safely stand and hear the Billows roar , But shall be toss'd on that tempestuous Sea no more : No more shall grieve , no more complain , But free from Care , and free from Pain , With us for ever shall remain . While thus they spoke , celestial Musick play'd , And welcom ! welcom ! every Angel said : With eager hast their Royal Guest they crown'd , While welcom ! welcom ! echo'd all around , And fill'd th' Æthereal Court with the loud cheerful Sound . 15. He said ; and to superior Joys return'd ; Britannia now no longer mourn'd : No more the Nymphs , no more the Swains , With Lamentations fill'd the Plains : The Muse came back , and with her brought Each sprightly , each delightful Thought : Kindly she rais'd me from the Ground , And smiling wip'd my Tears away : While Joy , she said , is spread around , And do's thro' all the Groves resound , Will you to Grief a Tribute pay , And mourn for one who's far more blest , Than those that are of Crowns possest ? No more , no more you must complain , But with Britannia now rejoice : Britannia to the Choir above Will add her charming Voice : Not one of all her beauteous Train But will obsequious prove ; And each will try who best can sing , Who can the highest Praises bring ; Who best describe his happy State , And best his present Joys relate . Hark ! Hark ! the Birds are come again , And each renews his sweet melodious Strain . Clear is the Skie , and bright the Day , Among the Boughs sweet Zephyrs play , And all are pleas'd , and all are gay . And dare you still your Grief express , As if you wish'd his Honours less , And with an envious Eye beheld his Happiness ? 16. Ah ! cruel Muse , with Sighs I said , Why do you thus your Slave upbraid ? I neither at his Bliss repine ; Nor is't my choice to disobey : Your Will , you know , has still been mine ; And I would now my ready def'rence pay : But Oh ! in vain I strive , in vain I try , While my lov'd Princess grieves , I can't comply : Her Tears forbid me to rejoice , And when my Soul is on the Wing , And I would with Britannia sing , Her Sighs arrest my Voice . But if once more you'd have me cheerful prove , And with your Shades again in Love , Strive by your Charms to calm her troubled Mind ; Let her the Force of pow'rful Numbers find : And by the Magick of your Verse restore Her former Peace , then add Delights unknown before Let her be blest , my Joys will soon return , But while she grieves , I ne'er can cease to mourn .