TO MISS

MISS R

ON HER ATTENDANCE UPON HER MOTHER AT

BUXTON.

With lenient arts extend a mother's breath.

POPE.

WHEN blooming beauty in the noon of power,
While offer'd joys demand each sprightly hour,
With all that pomp of charms and winning mien
Which fure to conquer needs but to be seen;
When fhe, whofe name the fofteft love inspires,

To the hufh'd chamber of disease retires,

To watch and weep befide a parent's bed,

Catch the faint voice, and raise the languid head,

What mixt delight each feeling heart must warm!

An angel's office suits an angel's form.

Thus the tall column graceful rears its head

To prop fome mould'ring tower with mofs o'erfpread,

Whose stately piles and arches yet display

The venerable graces of decay :

Thus round the wither'd trunk frefh fhoots are feen

To fhade their parent with a chearful green.

More health, dear maid! thy foothing presence brings

Than pureft skies, or falutary springs.

That voice, those looks fuch healing virtues bear,

Thy sweet reviving smiles might cheer despair;

On the pale lips detain the parting breath,
And bid hope bloffom in the fhades of death,
Beauty, like thine, could never reach a charm
So powerful to fubdue, fo fure to warm.
On her lov'd child behold the mother gaze,
In weakness pleas'd, and smiling thro' decays,

And leaning on that breast her cares affwage;

How soft a pillow for declining age!

For this, when that fair frame must feel decay,

(Ye fates protract it to a distant day)

When thy approach no tumults fhall impart,

Nor that commanding glance strike thro' the heart,

When meaner beauties fhall have leave to shine,

And crowds divide the homage lately thine,

Not with the tranfient praise those charms can boast Shall thy fair fame and gentle deeds be loft:

Some pious hand fhall thy weak limbs sustain,

And

pay thee back these generous cares again;

Thy name fhall flourish by the good approv❜d,
Thy memory honour'd, and thy dust belov❜d,

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JENNINGS*.

Eft tamen quieté, & puré, & eleganter actæ ætatis,

placida ac lenis fenectus.

CICERO DE SENECT.

'Tis paft: dear venerable fhade, farewell!

Thy blameless life thy peaceful death shall tell.

Clear to the last thy setting orb has run;

Pure, bright, and healthy like a frosty sun:
And late old age with hand indulgent shed
Its mildest winter on thy favour'd head.

*The Author's Grandmother.

For Heaven prolong'd her life to spread its praife,

And blefs'd her with a patriarch's length of days.

The trueft praise was hers, a chearful heart,

Prone to enjoy, and ready to impart.

An Ifraelite indeed, and free froin guile,

She show'd that piety and age could finile.
Religion had her heart, her cares, her voice;
'Twas her laft refuge, as her earlieft choice.
To holy Anna's spirit not more dear

The church of Ifrael, and the house of prayer.

Her spreading offspring of the fourth degree
Fill'd her fond arms, and clafp'd her trembling knee.
Matur'd at length for fome more perfect scene,

Her hopes all bright, her profpects all ferene,

Each part of life fuftain'd with equal worth,

And not a wifh left unfulfill'd on earth,

Like a tir'd traveller with fleep oppreft,

Within her children's arms fhe dropt to rest.