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Here, waiter, more wine, let me fit while I'm able;.
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead..
Here lies the good (m) Dean, re-united to earth; Who mixt reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth ::
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt,
At least, in six weeks, I could not find 'em out;
Yet fome have declar’d, and it can't be denied 'em,,
Here lies our good (n) Edmund, whose genius was such,,
We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much;:.
(9) Vide Page 6..
Who, born for the Universe, narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up, what was nieant for mankind.
To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.
© Mr. T. Townsend, Member for Whitchurch.
Here lies honest (p) William, whose heart was a mint,
Whilc the owner ne'er knew half the good that was in't ;
The pupil of impulse, it forc'd him along,
His conduct still right, with his argument wrong;
Still aiming at honour, yet fearing to roam,
What was good was spontaneous, his faults were his own.
Here lies honcft Richard, whose fate I must sigh at, Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet!
What fpirits were his, what wit and what whim,
(q) Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb;
Now (0) Vide Page 6. (?) Mr. Richard Burke ; vide page 6. This gentleman having slightly frac
Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the ball,
Here (r) Cumberland lies having acted his parts, The Terence of England, the mender of hearts ; A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
tured one of his arms and legs, at different times, the Doctor has rallied him on those accidents, as a kind of retributive justice for breaking his jests upon other people.
(r) Vide page 5.
His gallants are all faultless, his women divine,
And comedy wonders at being so fine;
Or rather like tragedy giving a rout.
Of virtues and feelings, that folly grows proud,
Adopting his portraits are pleas’d with their own.
To find out mens virtues and finding them few,
Quite fick of pursuing each troublesome elf,