The links, united, of our scatter’d chain,
Shew why Penn suffer’d tedious years of pain,—
Shew why one patient virtuous mind doth mourn,
And why sweet Peace is from a people torn.
For, individuals of earth’s humble vale
Mount, in gradation, on a heav’nly scale:
Yet Virtue, only, has a charm in death;
Wealth droops his plumes, as man resigns his breath;
Its social merits can’t ascend the skies,
Terrestrial substance can’t to heav’n arise;