Good passenger, one moment stay,
And contemplate this heap of clay;
’Tis Lackington that claims a pause,
Who strove with death, but lost his cause:
A stranger genius ne’er need be
Than many a merry year was he.
Some faults he had, some virtues too
(the devil himself should have his due);
And as dame fortune’s wheel turn’d round,
Whether at top or bottom found,
He never once forgot his station,
Nor e’er disown’d a poor relation;
In poverty he found content,
Riches ne’er made him insolent.
When poor, he’d rather read than eat,
When rich books form’d his highest treat,
His first great wish to act, with care,
The sev’ral parts assigned him here;
And, as his heart to truth inclin’d,
He studied hard the truth to find.
Much pride he had,—’twas love of fame,
And slighted gold, to get a name;
But fame herself prov’d greatest gain,
For riches follow’d in her train.
Much had he read, and much had thought,
And yet, you see, he’s come to nought;
Or out of print, as he would say,
To be revised some future day:
Free from errata, with addition,
A new and a complete edition. |
At Rugby, on Joseph Cave, Dr. Hawksworth wrote:—
Near this place lies the body of
Joseph Cave,
Late of this parish;
Who departed this life Nov. 18, 1747,
Aged 79 years.
He was placed by Providence in a humble station; but industry abundantly supplied the wants of nature, and temperance blest him with content and wealth. As he was an affectionate father, he was made happy in the decline of life by the deserved eminence of his eldest son,
Edward Cave,
who, without interest, fortune, or connection, by the native force of his own genius, assisted only by a classical education, which he received at the Grammar School of this town, planned, executed, and established a literary work called
The Gentleman’s Magazine,
whereby he acquired an ample fortune, the whole of which devolved to his family.
Here also lies
The body of William Cave,
second son of the said Joseph Cave, who died May 2, 1757, aged 62 years, and who, having survived his elder brother,