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Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
NOTES. Ver. 3. Beneath a rude) The Tomb of Mr. Dryden was erected upon this hint by the Duke of Buckingham; to which was originally intended this Epitaph,
This SHEFFIELD raiš'd. The facred Duft below
Was DRYDEN once : The rest who does not know? which the Author since changed into the plain inscription now upon it, being only the name of that great Poet.
J. DR Y DE N.
JOANNES SHEFFIELD DUX BUCKINGHAMIENSIS POSUIT.
On Mrs. CORBET,
Who died of a Cancer in her Breast.
ERE rests a Woman, good without pre
tence, Bleft with plain Reafon, and with sober Sense : No Conquests The, but o'er herself, desir’d, No Arts essay’d, but not to be admir’d. Passion and Pride were to her soul unknown, Convinc'd that Virtue only is our own. So unaffected, so compos'd a mind; So firm, yet soft; so strong, yet so refin’d; Heav'n, as its purest gold, by Tortures try'd; The Saint sustain'd it, but the Woman dy'd.
On the Monument of the Honourable
ROBERT DIGBY, and of his Sister MARY, erected by their Father the Lord Digby, in the Church of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, 1727.
O! fair Example of untainted youth,
Of modest wisdom, and pacifick truth: Compos’d in suš’rings, and in joy sedate, Good without noise, without pretension great. Just of thy word, in ev'ry thought sincere, Who knew no wish but what the world might hear: Of softest manners, unaffected mind, Lover of peace, and friend of human kind: Go live! for Heaven's Eternal year is thine, Go, and exalt thy Moral to Divine.
And thou, blest Maid! attendant on his doom, Pensive hast followed to the filent tomb, Steer'd the same course to the same quiet shore, Not parted long, and now to part no more ! Go then, where only bliss sincere is known! Go, where to love and to enjoy are one !
Yet take these Tears, Mortality's relief,
On Sir GODFREY KNELLER,
In Westminster-Abbey, 1723.
NELLER, by Heav'n and not a Master
taught, Whose Art wasNature, and whose Pictures Thought; Now for two ages having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, Lies crown'd with Princes honours, Poets lays, 5 Due to his Mcrit, and brave Thirst of praise.
Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie er works; and, dying, fears herself may die.
Raphail, timuit, quo fofpite, vinci
On General HENRY WITHERS,
In Westminster-Abbey, 1729.
TERE, WITHERS, rest!thou bravest, gentlest
WITHERS, adieu! yet not with thee remove