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And draw Tears from a Flint,
Or the Devil was in't.
If a Sinner came him nigh
With Soul black as Chimny,
And had but the Sense
To give him the Pence,
With a little Church-Paint
He'd make him a Saint.
He understood Physick,
And cur'd Cough and Ptifick;
And, in short, all the Ills
That we find in the Bills,
With a sovereign Balm,
The World calls a Pfalm.
Thus his Newgate-Birds once, in the Space of a Moon,
Tho' they liv'd to no Purpose, they dy d to fome Tune..
In Death was his Hope,
For he liv'd by a Rope.
Yet this, by the Way,
In his Praise we may fay,
That, like a true Friend,
He his Flock did attend,
Er'n to the World's End,
And car'd not to start
From Sledge, or from Cart,
'Till he first saw them wear
Knots under their Ear ;
And merrily swing,
In a well-twisted String.
But if any dy'd hard,
And left no Reward,
As I told you before,
He'd inhance their old Score,
And kill them again
With his murd'ring Pen.'
Thus he kept Sin in Awe,
And supported the Law;
But, Oh ! cruel Fate !
So unkind, tho' I say't,
Last Week, to our Grief,
Grim Death, that old Thief
Alas! and Alack !
Had the Boldness to pack
This old Priest on his Back,
And whither he's
Is not certainly known.
But a Man may conclude,
Without being Rude,
That Orthodox Sam,
His Flock would not sham,
And to thew himself to 'em a Paftor most Civil,
As he led, so he follow'd'em all to the D-1.
An ELEGY in Memory of the Gallant Vifc. Dun
dee, who was killd by a random Shot, after be
bad won the Battel at Gillecrankey. Writ by
Mr. Brown, at the Request of Dr. Griffith
and Mr. Burges
Fors & virtus mifcentur in unum.
Virg. Æneid. 12,
Or make my mournful Song thy Care;
Opprefs'd with Doubts, and mighty Woe,
I'd fing the Man, that all Mankind thou'd know,
How brave he fought, how conquer'd, and how fell,
And in what Cause affift me whilft I tell.
Quickly the News was hither brought;
Too true, alas ! chat he was dead,
And all onr Expectations Aed ;
But yet we would not entertain the Thought.
Between the Extreams of Hape and Festi
Confus'd we stood, the Truth to hear,
Until ’owas made at last too plain,
Beyond all Doubt the great taconquer'd Man'was flain.
Forgive me, Heav'ng that impious Thoonght,
At first I question't your Supream Decree,
Love to my King the Madness wroughit,
And Grief for the World's Loss, the brave DUNDEE.
Oh! frail Estate of Things below,
Well to our Cost your Emptiness we know.
Scarce from the Fury he had passid
Of a mistaken factious Race,
But other Dangers follow him as fant,
And trace him as he goes from Place to Place:
His Friends defert, his Foes pursue,
Yec ftill undaunted he goes on ;
New Dangers but his Mind and Strength renew,
So Brave, to Juft, and Good, was this unalter's Man,
Tho much oler-match'd in Mon and Arms,
His Gaufe and Courage only best,
And his Example for above the restritis
Firmly resolv'd, he meets the numrows Foe;
But first, with chearfil Anger in his face,
Soldiers and Friends, he spoke, I'm sure you know,
For what Incent, and for whose Sake we go
And then he bow'd, and briefly told the Cafe
His Speech to his Soldiers.
A King entaild, by long Descent,
Equal almost to Time in its Extent,
Robb’d of his Throne, for sure it must be so ;
Nor God nor Nature can,
Only presumptuous Man,
Be guilty of so black an Overthrow.
What's worse, to palliate the Pretence,
Harmless Religion too is brought,
Falsly and indirectly us’d,
And all her facred Mysteries abus'd,
Peyond what the dark Sybils ever taught.
And can we bear, my Friends, this great Offence?
Can we stand idle by,
And see our Mother robb'd, at last condemn’d to dic,
And not endeavour for some Recompence i