Should grave ones count these praises light,
To such it may be said:
A man, in this lamented wight,
Of business too is dead.
4.
From ancestors, as might a fool!
He trac'd no high-fetch'd stem;
But gloriously revers'd the rule,
By dignifying them.
5.
O! gentle Cambridge! sadly say,
Why fates are so unkind
To snatch thy giant sons away,
Whilst pigmies stay behind?
6.
Horace and he were call'd, in haste,
From this vile earth to heav'n;
The cruel year not fully past,
Ætatis, fifty seven.
7.
So, on the tops of Lebanon,
Tall cedars felt the sword,
To grace, by care of Solomon,
The temple of the Lord.
8.