An Epitaph in the Church-yard at Newington, in Ox

fordshire.

By WALLE r.

HENRY DUNCH, ESQ.

ERE lies the prop and glory of his race,

HE

Who, that no time his mem'ry may deface,

His grateful wife under this speaking ftone,
His afhes hid, to make his merit known.

Sprung from an opulent and worthy line,
Whofe well-us'd fortune made their virtues fhine,
A rich example his fair life did give,
How others fhould with their relations live.
A pious fon, a husband, and a friend,
To neighbours too his bounty did extend
So far, that they lamented when he died,

As if all to him had been near allied.

His curious youth would men and manners know,
Which made him to the fouthern nations

Nearer the fun, tho' they more civil feem,

go.

Revenge and luxury have their efteem,

Which well obferving, he return'd with more
Value for England than he had before;
Her true religion, and her statutes too,
He practifed not less than seek'd to know.
And the whole country griev'd for their ill fate,
To lofe fo good, fo juft a magiftrate.
To shed a tear may readers be inclin❜d,
And pray for one he only left behind,.
Till the who does inherit his eftate,
May virtue love like him, and vices hate.

The RIVAL BEAUTIES.

THR

From RUFIN US.

HREE lovely nymphs, contending for the prize,
Difplay'd their charms before my critic eyes,

Superior beauties heighten'd every grace,

And feem'd to mark them of celeftial race.

But I, who, blefs'd like Paris, fear'd his fall,
Swore each a Venus was-and pleas'd them all. -

Оп

On the death of the Rev. Mr Eccles -- Author of "The Man of Feeling"---who was drowned in attempting to fave a youth in the river in Dolmead.

7HEN fuch the feelings of the human heart,

WH

Death might have held his sharp, unerring dart: Doth this thy kindness to us mortals prove,

To murder him—who show'd fuch heavenly love?

Relent

*The Rev. Mr. Charles Eccles, who fell a facrifice to his humanity -was of a very refpectable family in the North of Ireland-and poflefled a confiderable fituation in the Church. He was the Author of "The Man of Feeling" and many other refpectable anonymous publications— he was about 30 years of age. His death was thus.

He was walking in Dolmead Bath-and a youth in bathing had got out out of his depth-he ftrip'd off his coat and leaped into the river to fave him but the youth faftening improperly upon him, they funk together and were drowned. An inhuman moniter who lived hard by---refused admittance of the bodies, that the faculty wanted to recover to life. This Mr. P had been lately wounded, and narrowly escaped with life, which occafioned these lines.

"Is there an heart-but muft dejection wear?

"Is there an eye that can refift a tear?
"Yes-callous to the foft endearing tie,
"All know where thou denied'ft humanity.

"E'en he, that Heaven's aufpicious hand reliev❜d,
"Refus'd the mercy he fo late receiv'd."

M.

Relentless death-thy bitt'reft venom's sped,
But thine's the lofs-the Man of Feeling's dead.
Yet, e're thou rob'st his fellow of such breath,
Triumphant TIME fhall glory in thy death.

E. T.

In obitam FRANCISCI FAWKES, M. A.

F

ESTIVUM fefto fi dant convivia cordi,

Siquid mellifluum carmine musa, vale!

Spirat at omnis amor, rident juvenilia læta,
Olim quæ lufit Teius ille fenex.

Smyrnæo dulci lachrymam linguamque dedifti;
Vivit, et ingenium, concipit ille tuo.
Vivunt Sicelides per te meliora canentes;
+ Theffala væ pinus, te pereunte, perit!

J. C.

* Bioni.

+Anglice vertebat et editurus erat Apollonii Rhodii Argonatica. Aliquot abhinc annis prodierant Interpretationes ejus Anacreontis, Sapphûs, Bionls, Mofchi, Mufæi, et Theocriti.

ODE

ODE to

MEMORY.

Go

By W. Wo T Y.

ODDESS! o'er me diffuse thy influence,
The world their merit owe to thee,

Their brilliant wit, their folid fenfe,

Thou parent of ability!

Or fhall I fay, to dare the critic's blame,
Ability, and thou, oh Memory! are the fame.

Whence in the fenate doth a Tully shine!
Whence-but from thy inspiring ray!
With gems collected from thy mine,

Where long in dark repose they lay,
Himself he decks, and with thy borrow'd light,
Transforms to lively day, th' unmeaning blank of night!

In vain may Science with her pupil ftray

Thro' ev'ry path in Learning's land

Science may teach him to furvey,

'Tis thine to make him understand!

To ftamp each image on his infant mind,

;

And polish fair the draught his fancy had defign'd.

VOL. I'

R

Bright