“Of manners gentle, of affections mild;
In wit a man, simplicity a child;
With native humour temp’ring virtuous rage,
Form’d to delight at once and lash the age;
Above temptation in a low estate,
And uncorrupted e’en among the great;
A safe companion and an easy friend,
Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end;
These are thy honours; not that here thy bust
Is mix’d with heroes, or with Kings thy dust;
But that the worthy and the good shall say,
Striking their pensive bosoms—Here lies Gay!”
He died December 4, 1732, aged forty-five.—Rysbrack, sculptor.
Nicholas Rowe, Esq., and his only daughter. On the front of the pedestal is this inscription:—“To the memory of Nicholas Rowe, Esq., who died in 1718, aged forty-five; and of Charlotte, his only daughter, wife of Henry Fane, Esq., who, inheriting her father’s spirit, and amiable in her own innocence and beauty, died in the twenty-second year of her age, 1739.” Underneath, upon the front of the altar, is this epitaph:—
“Thy reliques, Rowe! to this sad shrine we trust,
And near thy Shakspeare place thy honour’d bust.
Oh! next him skill’d to draw the tender tear,
For never heart felt passion more sincere;
To nobler sentiment to fire the brave,
For never Briton more disdained a slave;
Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest,
Blest in thy genius, in thy love, too, blest!
And blest, that timely from our scene remov’d,
Thy soul enjoys that liberty it lov’d!
To these so mourn’d in death, so loved in life,
The childless parent and the widow’d wife,
With tears inscribed this monumental stone,
That hold their ashes, and expects her own.”
Mr. Rowe was Poet Laureate, and author of several fine tragedies; and, just before his death, had finished a translation of Lucan’s Pharsalia.—Rysbrack, sculptor.
James Thomson, author of the Seasons, and other Poetical Works. The figure of Mr. Thomson leans its left arm upon a pedestal, holding a book in one hand, and the Cap of Liberty in the other. Upon the pedestal, in bas-relief, are the Seasons; to which a boy points, offering him a laurel crown, as the reward of his genius. At the feet of the figure is the tragic mask and the ancient harp. The whole is supported by a projecting pedestal, and in a panel is the following inscription:—“James Thomson, Ætatis 48, Obit 27 August, 1748. Tutored by thee, sweet Poetry exalts her voice to ages, and informs the page with music, image, sentiment, and thought, never to die!” Erected 1762.—Spang, sculptor.
William Shakspeare.—Both the design and workmanship of this monument are extremely elegant. The figure of Shakspeare, and his attitude, his dress, his shape, his genteel air, and fine composure, all so delicately expressed by the sculptor, cannot be sufficiently admired; and those beautiful lines of his that appear on the scroll are very happily chosen:—
“The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve.
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a wreck behind.”—The Tempest.
The heads on the pedestal, representing Henry V., Richard III., and Queen Elizabeth (three principal characters in his plays), are likewise proper ornaments to grace his tomb. In short, the taste that is here shown does honour to those great names under whose direction, by the public favour, it was so elegantly constructed: namely, the Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr. Pope, and Mr. Martin. It was designed by Kent, executed by Scheemakers, and the expanse defrayed by the grateful contributions of the public, 125 years after his death. He died April 24, 1617, in his 53rd year, and was buried in the great church at Stratford.
In front of this monument are buried Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Henderson, Sheridan, Campbell, and Cary.