Here Gratio mingles with his kindred clay,
Who liv'd contented, and who died resign'd;
He let no slavish rules his actions sway,
But the warm impulse of an honest mind.
Of heav'n's free blessings he bestow'd a part,
And open'd wide his hospitable gate;
He fed the poor, for gen'rous was his heart;
He sooth'd the sad, for pity was his mate.
To him the boon of good old age was giv'n,
And now, when parted from this world of woe,
He rests in holy faith of God and heav'n,
To meet that mercy which he gave below.
MOSCHUS.
ELEGY.
THE DECAYED MONASTERY.
How loves the mind to muse o'er long-past hours,
While o'er the scene the swift ideas dance;
How sweet absorb'd in memory's pleasing pow'rs,
To wing the soul in retrospective glance!
But nought avails the retrospective view,
If calm reflection turn it not to good;
In vain shall thought the backward theme pursue,
If mind not profit by the theme pursu'd.
Thus o'er some antique ruin, time-defac'd,
The sons of science oft delight to stray,
To trace the inscription on the desert waste,
And pierce time's dark veil by its lucid ray.
But vain the labours of the enquiring sage,
If thence the mind no moral truth sublimes;
Nor learns from heroes of a distant age,
To love their virtues, and to shun their crimes.