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T'allure our fouls, till just within our arms
The vifion dies, and all the painted charms

Fly quick away from the purfuing fight

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Till they are loft in fhades and mingle with the night.
Mufe, ftretch thy wings, and thy fad journey bend
To the fair fabrick that thy dying friend

Built nameless; 't will fuggeft a thousand things
Mournful and foft as my Urania fings.

How did he lay the deep foundations strong,
Marking the bounds, and rear the walls along
Solid and lafting! there a num'rous train
Of happy Gunstons might in pleasure reign
While nations perish and long ages run,
Nations unborn and ages unbegun;

Not time itself should waste the bless'd eftate,
Nor the tenth race rebuild the ancient feat.

How fond our fancies are! the founder dies
Childlefs; his fifters weep and clofe his eyes, 40
And wait upon his hearse with never-ceafing cries:
Lofty and flow it moves to meet the tomb,
While weighty forrow nods on ev'ry plume;
A thoufand groans his dear remains convey
To his cold lodging in a bed of clay,

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His country's facred tears well wat'ring all the way.
See the dull wheels roll on the sable road
But no dear fon to attend the mournful load,
And fondly kind drop his young forrows there,
The father's urn bedewing with a filial tear.

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O had he left us one behind to play

Wanton about the painted hall, and say

"This was my father's," with impatient joy In my fond arms I'd clasp the smiling boy,

And call him my young friend; but awful Fate 55 Defign'd the mighty stroke as lasting as 't was great.

And must this building then, this coftly frame, Stand here for strangers? must some unknown name Poffefs thefe rooms, the labours of my friend? Why were these walls rais'd for this hapless end? 60 Why thefe apartments all adorn'd fo gay? Why his rich fancy lavish'd thus away?

Mule, view the paintings, how the hov'ring light
Plays o'er the colours in a wanton flight,

And mingled fhades wrought in by foft degrees 65
Give a fweet foil to all the charming piece!
But night, eternal night, hangs black around
The difmal chambers of the hollow ground,
And folid fhades unmingled round his bed
Stand hideous; earthy fogs embrace his head,
And noisome vapours glide along his face
Rifing perpetual. Mufe, forfake the place,
Fly the raw damps of the unwholefome clay,
Look to his airy spacious hall, and fay

"How has he chang'd it for a lonesome cave,

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Confin'd and crowded in a narrow grave!"

Th' unhappy house looks defolate and mourns, And ev'ry door groans doleful as it turns ;

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The pillars languish, and each lofty wall
Stately in grief laments the mafter's fall:
In drops of briny dew the fabrick bears
His faint refemblance and renews my tears:
Solid and fquare it rifes from below;
A noble air without a gaudy show

Reigns thro' the model and adorns the whole,
Manly and plain: fuch was the builder's foul.
O how I love to view the ftately frame,
That dear memorial of the best-lov'd name!
Then could I wifh for fome prodigious cave,
Vaft as his feat and filent as his grave,

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Where the tall fhades ftretch to the hideous roof,
Forbid the day and guard the funbeams off;
Thither my willing feet should ye be drawn
At the gray twilight and the early dawn,
There fweetly fad thould my soft minutes roll
Numb'ring the forrows of my drooping foul.
But thefe are airy thoughts; fubftantial grief
Grows by those objects that fhould yield relief:
Fond of my woes I heave my eyes around,
My grief from ev'ry profpect courts a wound, co
Views the green gardens, views the smiling skies,
Still my heart finks and ftill my cares arise;
My wand'ring feet round the fair mansion rove,
And there to footh my forrows I indulge my love.
Oft' have I laid the awful Calvin by
And the fweet Cowley, with impatient eye

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To fee thofe walls, pay the fad vifit there,

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With many a pensive thought and many a figh be

Two days ago we took th' ev'ning air,

[tween.

I and my grief and ny Urania there;
Say, my Urania, how the western fun

Broke from black clouds and in full glory fhone
Gilding the roof, then dropt into the sea,

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And fudden night devour'd the fweet remains of day:
Thus the bright youth just rear'd his fhining head
From obfcure fhades of life and funk among the dead.
The rifing fun, adorn'd with all his light,
Smiles on thefe walls again; but endless night
Reigns uncontroll'd where the dear Gunfton lios;
He's fet for ever and muft never rife.
Then why thefe fmiles, unfeasonable star!

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Thefe lightfome fmiles, defcending from afar
To greet a mourning houfe? in vain the day
Breaks thro' the windows with a joyful ray,
And marks a fhining path along the floors,
Bounding th' ev'ning and the morning hours;
In vain it bounds 'em, while vaft emptiness
And hollow filence reigns thro' all the place,
Nor heeds the cheerful change of Nature's face.
Yet Nature's wheels will on without control,
The fun will rife, the tuneful fpheres will roll,
And the two nightly Bears walk round and watch
the pole.

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See while I speak high on her sable wheel Old Night advancing climbs the eastern hill; Troops of dark clouds prepare her way; behold How their brown pinions edg'd with ev'ning gold Spread fhadowing o'er the house and glide away, Slowly pursuing the declining day :

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O'er the broad roof they fly their circuit ftill,
Thus days before they did and days to come they will;
But the black cloud that fhadows o'er his eyes
Hangs there unmoveable and never flies:

Fain would I bid the envious gloom be gone; 145
Ah, fruitlefs with! how are his curtains drawn
For a long ev'ning that defpairs the dawn!

Mufe, view the turret: juft beneath the skies
Lonefome it ftands, and fixes my fad eyes,
As it would aík a tear. O facred feat!
Sacred to friendship! O divine retreat!
Here did I hope my happy hours t' employ,
And fed beforehand on the promis'd joy,
When weary of the noify Town my friend
From mortal cares retiring fhould ascend
And lead me thither. We alone would fit,
Free and fecure of all intruding feet;

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Our thoughts should stretch their longest wings and
Nor bound their foarings by the lower skies; [rife,
Our tongues fhould aini at everlafting themes, 160
And speak what mortals dare of all the names
Of boundless joys and glories, thrones and feats,
Built high in heav'n for fouls: we'd trace the streets

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