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POEMS IN MEMORY OF MR. GRAY.`

Thus fades the flow'r nipp'd by the frozen gale,
Though once so sweet, so lovely to the eye :
Thus the tall oaks, when boist'rous storms assail,
Torn from the earth, a mighty ruin lie.
Ye sacred sisters of the plaintive verse,
Now let the stream of fond affection flow;
O pay your tribute o'er the slow-drawn hearse,
With all the manly dignity of woe.

Oft when the Curfew tolls its parting knell

With solemn pause yon Church-yard's gloom survey,
While Sorrow's sighs and tears of Pity tell
How just the moral of the Poet's lay*.
O'er his green grave, in Contemplation's guise,
Oft let the pilgrim drop a silent tear ;
Oft let the shepherd's tender accents rise,
Big with the sweets of each revolving year ;
Till prostrate Time adore his deathless name,
Fix'd on the solid base of adamantine fame.

EPITAPH ON MR. GRAY'S MONUMENT,

IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

BY MR. MASON.

No more the Grecian Muse unrivall❜d reigns;
To Britain let the nations homage pay!
She boasts a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray.

* Elegy in a Country Church-yard.

THE END.

Printed by J. F. Dove, St. John's Square.

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