[Epitaph on Sir William Williams]

Here, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame,
Young Williams fought for England's fair renown;
His mind each Muse, each Grace adorned his frame,
Nor Envy dared to view him with a frown.

At Aix uncalled his maiden sword he drew,
(There first in blood his infant glory sealed);
From fortune, pleasure, science, love, he flew,
And scorned repose when Britain took the field.

With eyes of flame and cool intrepid breast,
Victor he stood on Belle Isle's rocky steeps;
Ah gallant youth! this marble tells the rest,
Where melancholy Friendship bends and weeps.