Much hope, if thou our spirits take Who canst the wisest wiser make, Wisdom and bliss thy word bestows, And be thy mercies show'r'd on those, STANZAS Subjoined to the Yearly Bill of Mortality of the Parish of All-Saints, Northampton *, Anno Domini 1787. Pallida Mors aquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas, Regumque turres. Horace. Pale Death with equal foot strikes wide the door Of royal halls, and hovels of the poor. WHILE thirteen moons saw smoothly run The Nen's barge-laden wave, All these, life's rambling journey done, Was man (frail always) made more frail Did famine or did plague prevail, No; these were vig'rous as their sires, And never waves his claim, * Composed for John Cox, parish clerk of Northampton Like crowded forest-trees we stand, Green as the bay-tree, ever green, The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen, I pass'd-and they were gone. Read, ye that run, the awful truth, And at the root of age. No present health can health insure I zo For yet an hour to comeeds modw oT No medicine, though it oft can cure!! nɛɔ I ¿Â Can always baulk the tomb, wob mreti baA And O! that humble as my lot, vow dɔas wolf And scorn'd as is my strain, d' fhidw go These truths, though known, too much forgot, I may not teach in vain ¤ eruixus de V So prays your clerk with all his heart, And ere he quits the pen, era qe sa doidwint Begs you for once to take his part, fyzio ba A And answer all-Amen!! COULD I, from Heav'n inspir'd, as sure presage And item down the victims of the past; How each would trembling wait the mournful sheet, Time then would seem more precious than the joys, Then doubtless many a trifier, on the brink Ah self-deceiv'd! Could I prophetic say Observe the dappled foresters, how light Had we their wisdom, should we, often warn'd, Sad waste! for which no after-thrift atones. Learn then ye living! by the mouths be taught the next op'ning grave may yawn for you. |