ANOTHER. Fever Pity were acquainted With stern death; if e'er he fainted Of an adamantine rigour, Here, O, here, we should have known it, Here or nowhere he'd have shown it. So sweet the temple was that shrined The soft tincture of a tear; Tears would now have flow'd so deep Would quite have lost the cruel fashion: Sick himself to have saved him: Burning only in his love; Him when wrath itself had seen, That notes the tragic dooms of men, Would have learnt a softer style, In the dark volume of our fate, The total sum of man appears; And the short clause of mortal breath Bound in the period of death. In all the book if anywhere Such a term as this, " Spare here," Could have been found, 'twould have been read, Writ in white letters o'er his head: Or close unto his name annex'd The fair gloss of a fairer text. But he, alas! even he is dead, All the tears that grief can lend : Sad mortality may hide In his ashes all her pride, With this inscription o'er his head :- HIS EPITAPH. ASSENGER, whoe'er thou art, Before thou passest further on. This stone will tell thee that beneath Had their general meeting-place; The splendour of his birth and blood Him while fresh and fragrant time His smooth cheeks with a downy shade; Swept him off into his grave. Enough, now, if thou canst, pass on ; For now, alas! not in this stone, Passenger, whoe'er thou art, Is he entomb'd, but in thy heart. AN EPITAPH UPON HUSBAND AND WIFE, 康 Who died and were buried together. O these whom death again did wed, It could not sever man and wife, In the last knot that love could tie. And they wake into a light Whose day shall never die in night. " AN EPITAPH UPON DOCTOR BROOK. BROOK, whose stream so great, so good, More than their own Helicon; Here, at length, hath gladly found |