EPITAPH, INTENDED FOR HIMSELF.
Escap'd the gloom of mortal life, a soul
Here leaves its mouldering tenement of clay,
Safe, where no cares their whelming billows roll,
No doubts bewilder, and no hopes betray.
Like thee, I once have stemm'd the sea of life;
Like thee, have languish'd after empty joys;
Like thee, have labour'd in the stormy strife;
Been griev'd for trifles, and amus'd with toys.
Yet, for awhile, 'gainst Passion's threatful blast
Let steady Reason urge the struggling oar;
Shot through the dreary gloom, the morn at last
Gives to thy longing eye the blissful shore.
Forget my frailties, thou art also frail;
Forgive my lapses, for thyself may'st fall;
Nor read, unmov'd, my artless tender tale,
I was a friend, O man! to thee, to all.
VERSES WRITTEN BY MR BLACKLOCK,
OF A BLANK LEAF OF HIS POEMS, SENT TO THE AUTHOR.
——"Si quis tamen hæc quoque, si quis
Captus amore leget." Virgil.
"O thou! whose bosom inspiration fires!
For whom the Muses string their favourite lyres!
Though with superior genius blest, yet deign
A kind reception to my humbler strain.