Page:The lives of the poets of Great Britain and Ireland to the time of Dean Swift - Volume 4.djvu/66

56 Should grave ones count theſe praiſes light,
 * To ſuch it may be ſaid:

A man, in this lamented wight,
 * Of buſineſs too is dead.

From anceſtors, as might a fool!
 * He trac’d no high-fetch’d ſtem;

But gloriouſly revers’d the rule,
 * By dignifying them.

O! gentle Cambridge? ſadly ſay,
 * Why fates are ſo unkind

To ſnatch thy giant ſons away,
 * Whilſt pigmies ſtay behind?

Horace and he were call’d, in haſte,
 * From this vile earth to heav’n;

The cruel year not fully paſt,
 * Ætatis, fifty ſeven.

So, on the tops of Lebanon,
 * Tall cedars felt the ſword,

To grace, by care of Solomon,
 * The temple of the Lord.

A tomb amidſt the learned may
 * The weſtern abbey give!

Like theirs, his aſhes muſt decay,
 * Like theirs, his fame ſhall live. 9. Cloſe