Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/382

 244 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Above this mouldring Earth to flourish in the Skies: "And when his Body falls in Funeral Fire �When late revolving Ages shall consume 170 �The very Pillars, that support his Tomb, " His name shall live, and his best Part aspire. �Deluded Wretch ! grasping at future Praise, Now planting, with mistaken Care, �Round thy enchanted Palace in the Air, �A Grove, which in thy Fancy time shall raise, �A Grove of soaring Palms, and ever-lasting Bays; �Could' st Thou alas! to such Renown arrive, �As thy Imaginations wou'd contrive ; �Should numerous Cities, in a vain contest, 180 �Struggle for thy famous Birth ; �Should the sole Monarch of the conquer'd Earth, His wreathed Head upon thy Volume rest ; Like Maro, could'st thou justly claim, Amongst th' inspired tuneful Race, The highest Room, the undisputed Place ; And after near Two Thousand Years of Fame, Have thy proud Work to a new People shown ; �Th' unequal'd Poems made their own, In such a Dress, in such a perfect Stile 190 �As on his Labours Dryden now bestows, As now from Dryden 's just Improvement flows, �In every polish'd Verse throughout the British Isle; What Benefit alas! would to thee grow? What Sense of Pleasure wou'dst thou know? What swelling Joy ? what Pride ? what Glory have, When in the Darkness of the abject Grave, Insensible, and Stupid laid below, No Atom of thy Heap, no Dust wou'd move, �For all the Airy Breath that form'd thy Praise above? 200 ��� �