Lamented shade! by thee was once possest
Whate’er has genius on her sons bestow’d;
The smoothest manners, and the tend’rest breast,
The tonge, whence wisdom’s purest dictates flow’d!
’Twas thine, the seeds of modest worth to rear,
And from misfortune’s brow the cloud to chace,
Of poverty the lonely cot to cheer.
And to the troubled spirit whisper peace.
Of truth thou boldly strove to spread the reign,
Of superstition’s night disperse the gloom,