In Memory of the Right Hon. NEVIL Lord LOVELACE. Mary Jones 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. T115196 Jones, Mary, d. 1778. Miscellanies in Prose and Verse. By Mary Jones. Oxford Printed; and delivered by Mr. Dodsley in Pall-Mall, Mr. Clements in Oxford, and Mr. Frederick in Bath, MDCCL. 1750 pp. 139-142. vi,[1],xlv,[1],405p.

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In Memory of the Right Hon. NEVIL Lord LOVELACE . In the calm hour , when pleasure most prevails , And smooth prosperity has swell'd your sails , The sportive Muse her humble lyre has strung , To join the triumph with some idle song : And shall she now , when nature smiles no more , When tempests rise , and surges lash the shore , Sit doubtful , and the serious lay refuse ? Shall Lovelace sigh , nor sympathize the Muse ? In life's mixt scene , where various parts agree To form one tedious Tragi-Comedy , How few , alas ! in either part can shine ? But both to grace , what forces must combine ! In some low scene is Silia deem'd a wit ? With patience ' meekest ear attentive sit . In mimic state , and proud fantastic pow'r , Is Fulvia crown'd the Queen of half an hour ? The Queen of half an island if she please ; The wise have no debates with such as these . But when the rising scenes with anguish swell , 'Tis Yours the higher , harder part to tell , And dignify distress by suff'ring well . Whether the Stoic's , or the Christian's part , Found in the head , or working at the heart ; Here all the kind affections , touch'd , comply ; There rous'd again to study'd apathy . Come , false Philosophy ! as proud as vain , Talk well of virtue , talk it o'er again ; Deep in the heart true Fortitude's conceal'd , And needs no eloquence to be reveal'd . Yet speak ! O tell me ! whence this clam of mind ? The will obedient , and the wish resign'd ; The steady temper , and the look serene , And all a Sister's woe in silence seen ? That I may learn , when by misfortune prest , To yeild with meekness , or with strength resist . Brave Youth ! with ev'ry virtue crown'd , farewel ! How truly lov'd , young Hon. Horace Walpole , Esq ; Walpole's Muse can tell . He to the Tomb has led the weeping Nine , And hung the wreath of friendship o'er the shrine . Not sweeter notes , whom Pope consigns to fame , " Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham . " Here the pale Loves , and sick'ning Graces mourn , And there the Sister weeping o'er the Urn : Like some fair pillar nodding o'er it's base , The last remaining ruin of her race ; Left but to make their milder virtues known , And fill the radiant circle with her own . Useless the marble , and the mournful crest , No tomb so lovely as a sister's breast ; There shall thy mem'ry live , by time improv'd , And she for virtues , once thy own , be lov'd : Not such as make of Kings and Queens a Friend , But such as grac'd thy life , and bless'd thy end ; Truth unaffected , Manners void of art , Plain Sense , and strong Benevolence of heart . Oft as she eyes yon bright etherial plain , And burns to follow Thee , and mix again ; Some tender friendships , some endearing ties , Cling round her heart , and hold her from the skies . A little while , and these shall all decay , And the free soul emerge to endless day : Where , having long sustain'd the faithful part , The strong attraction seizing all her heart , Her gentler orb shall round it's center move , Re-kindled into Harmony and Love .