I might convey thy elegy
To th' grief and envy of posterity!
A gentler youth ne'er crown'd his parents' cares,
Or added ampler joy to their grey hairs:
Kind to his friends, to his relations dear,
Easy to all.—Alas! what is there here
For man to set his heart upon,
Since what we dote on most is soonest gone?
Ai me! I've lost a sweet companion,
20A friend, a brother all in one!