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EPITAPH ON CLAUDE PHILLIPS,[1]
AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN.
Phillips! whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power and hapless love,
Rest here; distress'd by poverty no more,
Find here that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.
[Footnote 1: 'Claude Phillips:' a Welsh travelling fiddler, greatly admired.]
* * * * *
EPITAPH
ON SIR THOMAS HANMER, BART.
Thou who survey'st these walls with curious eye,
Pause at this tomb where Hanmer's ashes lie;
His various worth through varied life attend, 3
And learn his virtues while thou mourn'st his end.
His force of genius burn'd in early youth,
With thirst of knowledge, and with love of truth;
His learning, join'd with each endearing art,
Charm'd every ear, and gain'd on every heart.