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IN THE CHURCH-YARD OF BROMLEY, IN KENTO

WRITTEN BY THE LATE JOHN HAWKESWORTH,

L. L. D.

ATIT

Near this place lies the body of

ELIZABETH MONK, who-departed this life on the 17th day of Aug. 1753,

aged 101. She was the Widow of John Monk, late of this parith,

blacksmith,

her second husband,
to whom she had been a wife near fifty years.

By him she had no children ;
and of the issue of her first marriage none lived to the

second.

But virtue would not suffer her to be childless. An infant, to whom, and to whose father and uncles,

she had been nurse, (such is the uncertainty of temporal pofterity ) became dependent upon strangers for the neceffaries of

life ;

to him the afforded the protection of a mother, This parental charity was returned with filial affection;

and she was fupported in the feebleness of age by him whom the had cherished in the helplesness of infancy.

Let

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LET IT BE REMEMBERED,
That there is no station in which industry will not

obtain power to be liberal,
nor any character on which liberality will not confer

Honour,
She had been long preparod,

by a fimple and unaffected piety,
for what awful moment which, however detayed, is

universally sure. How few are allowed an equal time of probation! How many by their lives appear to presume upon more!

To preserve the memory of this person, but yet more to perpetuate the lesson of her life, this Stone was erected by voluntary contribution,

IN THE CATHEDRAL AT BRISTOL.

IN MEMORY OF MRS. MASON, WHO DIED AT THE

HOTWELLS, IN 1767.

TAKE, holy earth, all that my foul holds dear,

Take that best gift which Heav'n fo lately gave :
To Bristol's fount I bore, with trembling care,

Per faded form : The bow'd to tafte the wave,

Anch

And died. Does youth, does beauty, read the line ?

Does sympathetic fear their breasts alarm ?
Speak, dead Maria ! breathe a strain divine :

Ev'n from the grave thou shalt have pow'r to charm;
Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee ;

Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move ;
And, if so fair, from vanity as free,

As firm in friendship, and as fond in Love :
Tell them, though 'tis an awful thing to die,

('I'was ev'n to thee) yet the dread path once trods
Heav'n lifts its everlasting portals high,
And bids " the pure in heart behold their God.”

W. MASON,

Ε Ρ Ι Τ Α Ρ Η ,

ON MISS DRUMMOND, DAUGHTER OF THE ARCH.SE

BISHOP OF YORK.

BY MR. MAS ON.

HERE sleeps--what once was beauty, once was grace,

Grace, that with sense and tenderness combin'd To form that harmony of foul and face,

Where Beauty shines the mirror of the mind.

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Such

Such was the maid, who, in the morn of youth,

In virgin innocence, in Nature's pride, Bleft with each art which owes its charm to Truth,

Sunk in her father's fond embrace, and dy'd.

He weeps SOh venerate the holy tear!

Faiths lends her aid to ease Affliction's load; The parent mourns his child upon her bier,

The Christian yields an Angel to his God.

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[These are the Verses which the Monthly Reviewers

so justly regret were omitted in the published Coba lection of Miss Aikin's Poems.]

WHEN now the hostile maid refus’d to yield,
The honours of the well disputed field;
When her firm phalanx, wedg'd in close array,
Press’d tow'rds the gaol, and turn'd the doubtful day,

The

The knight despair'd by open force to gain
Victorious laurels on the chequer'd plain :
And long revolv'd, within his wily breast,
What friendly pow'r would aid his conquest beft.
Distress'd by doubt, and urg'd by deep despair,
At length to Morpheus he address’d his pray’r ;
A gentle, harmless, inoffen five pow'r,
And ne'er invok'd in fighting fields before.
He turn'd, observant to the fetting fun,
Thrice yawn'd, and his petition thus begun :

" Othou ! whose equal, mild, and grateful fway, " The wretched welcome, and the great obey, " If e'er, with murmur'd spells of magic found, " I've spread thy empire ev'n on holy ground, “ 'Till drowsy vapours crept from pew to pew, " 'Till all the nodding audience bow'd to you, " And hung their heads like flow'rs beneath the

o dew ;

" In constant slumbers seal those hostile eyes, “ And let my troops th' unwary fce surprize. “ My grateful hand to thee shall confecrate “ An ample folio, of flupendous weight. “ Words of such opiate virtue fail compose 6. The soporific, soft, lothean dose; “ No mortal eye-lids fhall refift the charm, “ No Dutchman's phlegm against its influence arm,

" Thy

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