AN ODE On the DEATH of Bishop ATTERBURY

You who would build yourselves eternal Fame, Live to the World, and be for ever known, Chuse out some eminently virtuous Name, And try to blend it with your own: But praise no Wretch, by Fraud or Rapine great, Because he can reward thy Toils with Pelf; If so, you justly share the Villain's Fate, And draw a Nation's Curses on yourself. A nobler Theme presents itself to all, (Ye Learn'd, your Atterbury's dead) 'Tis Virtue's Funeral.

If when he Dy'd, the Angels did rejoice, Join'd by his Harp to sing th' Almighty's Praise, Have we not Cause to weep for such a Loss, What greater Subject can demand our Lays? Ye noble Souls who did his Friendship share, 'Tis you alone my Sorrows would address, I know how virtuous, and how few, you are, And wish no other Hearers, were you less; But wou'd go thither, wheresoe'er you went, An honourable Death to share, Or noble Banishment.

No Laurels, no Rewards, attend this Verse, It is too honest for the World's Applause; Be it my Wealth to weep upon thy Hearse, My Glory, ever to defend thy Cause. I boast some Merit; 'tis to love thy Name, This is a Privilege, no Laws deny; 'Tis Laurels, Glory, Wealth, Applause and Fame, And I would do it, were I sure to die. For in thee living we alone might find More Friendship, Honour, Sense and Truth, Than now is left behind.

With early Speed he follow'd Virtue's Chace, Still as she fled him, did he not pursue? With added Vigour and redoubled Pace, What cannot exemplary Virtue do? Whate'er he did, 'twas there he did excel, The Husband, Father, Master, or the Friend, Were all perform'd so tenderly and well, 'Twas hard to say where most we might commend: Time, to thy Wing, and bring me if you can, 'Mongst all thy Dead and Living Store, To such another Man.

As the high-crested Oak, which long had stood The Tempest's Shock and the fierce Lightning's Blaze; Whole Ages flourishing o'er all the Wood, The lenient Hand of Time at length decays; So with unshaken Zeal did he oppose The factious Insolence, the impious Hate, The Malice, Rage, and Turbulence of those, Who sought Subversion to the Church and State. Heaven saw, was pleased, then call'd him to receive What none but the Approv'd can know, And none but God can give.