In Memory of Mr. STERNE, author of THE SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

With wit, and genuine humour, to dispel, From the desponding bosom, gloomy care, And bid the gushing tear, at the sad tale Of hapless love or filial grief, to flow From the full sympathising heart, were thine, These powers, Oh Sterne! but now thy fate demands (No plumage nodding o'er the emblazon'd hearse Proclaiming honor where no virtue shone) But the sad tribute of a heart-felt sigh: What tho' no taper cast its deadly ray, Nor the full choir sing requiems o'er thy tomb, The humbler grief of friendship is not mute; And poor Maria, with her faithful kid, Her auburn tresses carelessly entwin'd With olive foliage, at the close of day, Shall chaunt her plaintive vespers at thy grave. Thy shade too, gentle Monk, mid aweful night, Shall pour libations from its friendly eye; For 'erst his sweet benevolence bestow'd Its generous pity, and bedew'd with tears The sod, which rested on thy aged breast.