English poem
On Mr. POPE's Death
These Lines to Pope for ever sacred live, The best a grateful mourning Muse can give; To him, now number'd with th' immortal Dead, This Verse unfeign'd with flowing Eyes be read. O Thou! applauded by the Wise and Great! Nor Worth, nor Genius could postpone thy Fate: Too long an Exile from the Worlds of Bliss, By envying Angels snatch'd too soon from this: Thy Strains seraphick shall their Anthems raise, Give Heav'n new Harmony, and God new Praise.
More by Sir Jones Henry
- On Christmas Day
- On his Excellency the Earl of CHESTERFIELD'S Arrival in Ireland
- On his Excellency the Earl of CHESTERFIELD's resigning the Government of Ireland
- On his Royal Highness the Duke of CUMBERLAND's Success at the Hague
- On Painting
- On seeing a Picture of his Royal Highness the Prince of WALES, which was presented to the University of Dublin
- On seeing Mr. BARRY in the Character of Hamlet
- On seeing Mrs. Woffington appear in several Characters