Page:Lives of Poets-Laureate.djvu/243

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NICHOLAS ROWE.
229

took him on the 6th of December, 1718, in the forty-fifth year of his age. He was buried on the 19th in Westminster Abbey, near Chaucer; and his old schoolfellow, Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester and Dean of Westminster, read the funeral service over him. A monument was erected to his memory by his widow, and Pope wrote the following epitaph, which was subsequently altered, though not improved.

"Thy relics, Howe, to this fair urn we trust,
And, sacred, place by Dryden's awful dust.
Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies,
To which thy tomb shall guide inquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest!
Bless'd in thy genius—in thy love too blest!
One grateful woman to thy fame supplies
What a whole thankless land to his denies."

He was twice married, his first wife was a daughter of Mr. Parsons, an auditor of the revenue; his second, of Mr. Devenish, a gentleman in Dorsetshire. He left a son by the former, and a daughter by the latter. His translation of Lucan's "Pharsalia," which he lived long enough to complete, though not to publish, was found among his papers after his death, and published by Dr. Welwood, with a short memoir prefixed, from which we make the following extract of his character, drawn with a slightly partial hand.

"His person was graceful and well made, his face regular and of a manly beauty. He had a quick and fruitful invention, a deep penetration and a large compass of thought, with singular dexterity and easiness in making his thoughts to be understood. He was master of most parts of polite learning, especially the classical authors, both Greek and Latin, understood the French, Italian, and Spanish languages, and spoke the first fluently, and the other two tolerably well. He had a good taste in philosophy, and having a firm impression of religion upon his