An ODE ON THE DEATH of Mr. PELHAM. David Garrick Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T131163 K104099.004 Dodsley, Robert, 1703-1764. A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands. Vol. IV. London printed by J. Hughs, for R. and J. Dodsley 1763 [1st ed. 1758] pp. 198-202. 6v.: music; 8⁰.

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An ODE ON THE DEATH of Mr. PELHAM . By Mr. GARRICK . An honest man's the noblest work of God ! POPE . LET others hail the rising sun , I bow to that whose course is run , Which sets in endless night ; Whose rays benignant bless'd this isle , Made peaceful Nature round us smile With calm , but cheerful light . No bounty past provokes my praise , No future prospects prompt my lays , From real grief they flow ; I catch th' alarm from Britain's fears , My sorrows fall with Britain's tears , And join a nation's woe . See — as you pass the crowded street , Despondence clouds each face you meet , All their lost friend deplore : You read in every pensive eye , You hear in ev'ry broken sigh , That Pelham is no more . If thus each Briton be alarm'd , Whom but his distant influence warm'd , What grief their breasts must rend , Who in his private virtues bless'd , By Nature's dearest tyes possess'd The Husband , Father , Friend ! What ! mute ye bards ? — no mournful verse , No chaplets to adorn his hearse , To crown the good and just ? Your flowers in warmer regions bloom , You seek no pensions from the tomb , No laurels from the dust . When pow'r departed with his breath , The sons of Flatt'ry fled from death : Such insects swarm at noon . Not for herself my Muse is griev'd , She never ask'd , nor e'er receiv'd , One ministerial boon . Hath some peculiar strange offence , Against us arm'd Omnipotence , To check the nation's pride ? Behold th' appointed punishment ! At length the vengeful bolt is sent , It fell — when Pelham dy'd ! Uncheck'd by shame , unaw'd by dread , When Vice triumphant rears her head , Vengeance can sleep no more ; The evil angel stalks at large , The good submits , resigns his charge , And quits th' unhallow'd shore . The same sad morn The 6th of March , 1754 , was remarkable for the publication the works of a late Lord , and the death of Mr. Pelham . to church and state , ( So for our sins 'twas fix'd by fate ) A double stroke was giv'n ; Black as the whirlwinds of the north , St. J—n's fell Genius issu'd forth , And Pelham fled to heav'n ! By angels watch'd in Eden's bow'rs , Our parents pass'd their peaceful hours , Nor guilt nor pain they knew ; But on the day which usher'd in The hell-born train of mortal sin , The heav'nly guards withdrew . Look down , much honour'd shade , below , Still let thy pity aid our woe ; Stretch out thy healing hand ; Resume those feelings , which on earth Proclaim'd thy patriot love and worth , And sav'd a sinking land . Search with thy more than mortal eye , The breasts of all thy friends : descry What there has got possession . See if thy unsuspecting heart , In some for truth mistook not art , For principle , profession . From these , the pests of human kind , Whom royal bounty cannot bind , Protect our parent King : Unmask their treach'ry to his sight , Drag forth the vipers into light , And crush them ere they sting . If such his trust and honours share , Again exert thy guardian care , Each venom'd heart disclose ; On Him , on Him , our all depends , Oh save him from his treach'rous friends , He cannot fear his foes . Whoe'er shall at the helm preside , Still let thy prudence be his guide , To stem the troubled wave ; But chiefly whisper in his ear , " That GEORGE is open , just , sincere , " And dares to scorn a knave . " No selfish views t' oppress mankind , No mad ambition fir'd thy mind , To purchase fame with blood ; Thy bosom glow'd with purer heat ; Convinc'd that to be truly great , Is only to be good . To hear no lawless passion's call , To serve thy King , yet feel for all , Such was thy glorious plan ! Wisdom with gen'rous love took part , Together work thy head and heart , The Minister and Man . Unite , ye kindred sons of worth ; Strangle bold faction in its birth ; Be Britain's weal your view ! For this great end let all combine , Let virtue link each fair design , And Pelham live in you .