Think, think of him, and take your lot in peace.

And such there was: - Oh! grief, that checks our pride,

Weeping we say there was, for MANNERS

[{1}]

died:

Beloved of Heaven, these humble lines forgive

That sing of Thee, and thus aspire to live.

As the tall oak, whose vigorous branches form

An ample shade, and brave the wildest storm,