On an Infant.
On Life's wild ocean, sorrowful and pained,
How many voyagers their course perform!
This little bark a kinder fate obtained,
It reached the harbour ere it met the storm.
On John Underwood.
Ah, cruel Death! that dost no good,
With thy destructive maggots,
Now thou hast cut down Underwood,
What shall we do for faggots?
In Lymington Churchyard.
Live well, die never:
Die well, live for ever.
In Greenwich Churchyard.
On Two Young Children.
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care,
The opening buds to Heaven conveyed,
And bade them blossom there.
From the French.
Careless and thoughtless all my life,
Stranger to every source of strife,
And deeming each grave sage a fool,
The law of Nature was my rule,
By which I learnt to duly measure
My portion of desire and pleasure.
'Tis strange that here I lie, you see,
For Death must have indulged a whim;
At any time to have thought of me,
Who never once did think of him.
