O! when will princes learn to copy thee, Haste, mighty chief, our injur'd rights restore, Then shall my Ca'ndish, foremost in the field, Ne'er let thine honest, open heart believe Think not that promises, or oaths can bind, And curse those kingdoms he could never rule. Yet still one care, one tender care remains; In one short sentence to comprize the whole, Preserve thy life, my too, too generous friend, Let princely Monmouth courtly wiles beware, With tranquil brow awaits the unjust decree, Ca'ndish, farewell! may Fame our names entwine! Through life I loved thee, dying I am thine; With pious rites let dust to dust be thrown, . And thus inscribe my monumental stonę. "Here Russel lies, enfranchised by the grave, "He prized his birthright, nor would live a slave. "Few were his words, but honest and sincere, "Dear were his friends, his country still more dear; "In parents, children, wife supremely bless'd, "But that one passion swallow'd all the rest; "To guard her freedom was his only pride, "Such was his love, and for that love he died." "Yet fear not thou, when Liberty displays "Her glorious flag, to steer his course to praise ; "For know, (whoe'er thou art that read'st his fate, "And think'st, perhaps, his sufferings were too great,) "Bless'd as he was, at her imperial call, Wife, children, parents-he resign'd them all; "Each fond affection then forsook his soul, "And AMOR PATRIE occupied the whole; "In that great cause he joy'd to meet his doom, "Bless'd the keen axe, and triumph'd o'er the tomb." The hour draws near- -But what are hours to me? WILLIAM WILKIE, West Lothian, 1721,-1672. Whatever nationality could do for a Poem, has been done for this writer's Epigoniad. Hume recommended it in the Critical Review, as one of the ornaments of our language, Smollett enumerated it among the glories of George the Second's reign, and he is called the Scottish Homer.All would not do, the fable is well invented, but it is dull, the verses respectable but dull, the author learned but dul, and dulness is the poetical sin, for which there is no redemption. Wilkie wrote this poem as the most probable means of in troducing himself to the notice of the Great. He composed an epick poem upon the speculation of getting preferment. In person he was slovenly, dirty, and even nauseous, he abhorred nothing so much as clean sheets. One evening at Hatton, being asked by Lady Lauderdale to stay all night, he expressed an attachment to his own bed, but said, if her Ladyship would give him a pair of foul sheets, he would stay. But there are more honourable traits in Wilkie's character i hiş talents made him the best farmer in his neighbour |