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ELEGY

ON THE DEATH OF

DOCTOR BOWDITCH,

The distinguished Translator of the "Mécanique Céleste.”

REVERED, beloved, adored by all that knew
The worth and wisdom of thy matchless mind!
Even thou hast paid the tribute that is due
From us to Death-the despot of mankind.

For that we weep not-none must linger here-
And none would linger, when life's oil is spent ;
As strength and health's frail glories disappear,
Fate calls us hence, and Nature cries "content."

Children may weep; but 't is for men to know
How just the judgment is that dooms decay;
And though we sigh, we bear the lethal blow,
And learn from God the lesson to obey.

So did'st thou feel the necessary law;
So like a sainted sage did'st thou expire;
Calmly thy sense its flickering taper saw,
Meekly thy soul gave up its fainting fire.

The eye-the voice-the hand, are useless now,
Those clay companions of a nobler guest;
Cold as sepulchral sculpture is thy brow-

Still as the rock thy thought-deserted breast.

But not the godlike, intellectual flame,

With these is quenched. The mind that searched the stars Yet blooms-increased in knowledge-yet the same;

Time spares the spirit, but the body mars.

The world is poorer than 't was yesterday—
But heaven is richer. We have lost indeed
A guide and teacher; but the angels may
Rejoice that thou from fleshly chains art freed.

Now shalt thou know the whole of that strange tale,
A part of which thy genius grasped before;
Thy Father's hand his secrets shall unveil,
And of his myst'ries ope the sacred door.

Thou shalt know all-while we who, left behind,

In darkness grope, are still the slaves of doubt;
Thou seest every thing, but we are blind,
Fearing to puff this mortal candle out.

Pure peace and satisfaction to thy soul

Shall the disclosure of heaven's wonders bring;
Across thy faith no curt'ning clouds shall roll,
But all be told thee by thy sire and king.

Must we remain, and never read the page
Whereon those starry characters are writ?
No-thank the warnings of approaching age-
Ourselves, like thee, this earthy globe must quit.

Sublime, like thee, our weaker view shall scan
The frame and motion of yon orbs of light,
Forget what 't is to act and think as man,
And see the future opened on our sight.

With such assurance let us cease to sigh,

Live like the wise, and die as fits the brave;

The tomb is but an entrance to the sky-
The road to bliss lies through the mouldy grave.

T.

These beautiful lines appeared anonymously in the Boston Daily Advertiser of March 22, a few days after the decease of Dr. Bowditch. Why does not the author reveal himself? [herself?] Any one might justly feel proud of being able to assert a claim to them.

ERRATA.

Page 12, line 13, after millions, insert of miles. This error occurs in about half the copies.

Page 36, line 5, for twenty-three, read twenty-seven.

46 61, Note, line 10, for 1828 read 1826.

66

43, line 11, after office, insert of Actuary.

BOSTON:

PRINTED BY FREEMAN AND BOLLES,

WASHINGTON-STREET.

EULOGY

ON THE

LIFE AND CHARACTER

OF

NATHANIEL BOWDITCH,

LL.D. F.R. S.

DELIVERED AT THE REQUEST OF THE CORPORATION OF THE CITY OF SALEM, MAY 24, 1838.

BY DANIEL APPLETON WHITE.

SALEM:

PRINTED AT THE OFFICE OF THE GAZETTE.

At a meeting of the City Council of the City of Salem, on Thursday, May 24th, 1838, the following Order was unanimously passed:

"ORDERED, That the thanks of the City Council be presented to the Hon. DANIEL A. WHITE, for the interesting and excellent Discourse, delivered by him, at their request, upon the life and character of the late NATHANIEL BOWDITCH, LL.D; and that the Committee, who were appointed to make arrangements for the occasion, be requested to apply to him for a copy for publication.”

Attest.

JOSEPH CLOUTMAN, City Clerk.

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