ON A SIMILAR OCCASION, FOR THE YEAR 1793. De sacris autem hæc sit una sententia, ut conscrventur.-CIC. DE LEG. But let us all concur in this one sentiment, that things sacred be inviolate. HE lives, who lives to God alone, For other source than God is none To live to God is to requite But life, within a narrow ring Can life in them deserve the name, For what poor toys they can disclaim An endless life above? Who, much diseased, yet nothing feel; Who deem his house a useless place, Faith, want of common sense; And ardour in the Christian race, A hypocrite's pretence? Who trample order; and the day, If scorn of God's commands, impress'd Such want it, and that want, uncured Of everlasting death. Sad period to a pleasant course! Sabbaths profaned without remorse, INSCRIPTION FOR THE TOMB OF MR. HAMILTON. PAUSE here, and think: a monitory rhyme Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein; Anticipates a day it never sees; And many a tomb, like Hamilton's, aloud EPITAPH ON A HARE. HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, Though duly from my hand he took He did it with a jealous look, His diet was of wheaten bread, With sand to scour his maw. On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, A Turkey carpet was his lawn, His frisking was at evening hours, But most before approaching showers, Eight years and five round-rolling moons I kept him for his humour's sake, My heart of thoughts, that made it ache, But now beneath his walnut shade He, still more aged, feels the shocks, EPITAPHIUM ALTERUM. Hic etiam jacet, Qui totum novennium vixit, Puss. Qui præteriturus es, Hunc neque canis venaticus, Nec plumbum missile, Confecêre: Tamen mortuus est Et moriar ego. |