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POETRY.
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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St Dennis : * or , the Vanity of Human
Greatness . ( By Dr . T . Drummond . J TTOW solemn is the pile !—how still the •" scenes !—What serious dread !—what awful silence reig-ns ! . " , 1
The list e ningear receives no other sound , But echoes whisp ' ring thro the vaulted round . No other objects strike the wond ' ring- eyes , But venerable columns that arise , And on their capitals uprear aloof
The pondVous arches of yon distant roof . Or where the Parian stone , and figur'd brass , A group of melancholy forms express ; In mimic art , the weeping- inarble breathes , And twisted pillars swell with mournful
wreaths : In pomp of sad magnificence , to spread Their monumental honours o ' er the dead . Such , and so solitary the retreat Of royal splendour , and the stately great ; Here ail the heads that wore the Gallic crown ,
From Dagobert to mighty Lewis down ; Within the leaden arms of death are prest , And all their cares and conquests laid to rest : One common fate with other mortals scan , For he who liv'd a monarch dies a man . No courtier here , no sycophant attends , The practis ed knee no cringing' flatterer
bends ; No armed guards in glitt ' ring order wait , No shining- equipages crowd the gate : The robe , the crown , the sceptre , laid aside , With all the pageant toys of regal pride ; Who rous'd the sons of war to deeds © f
arms , And shook the trembling" nations with alarms ; Whose rapid conquests o ' er the rivers flew , And whose ambition with his conquests ffvew ; T now confiVd within the lonesome cave .
A shroud his mantle , and his realm a grave : W ithout one slave his orders to perform , ^ ua no attendant but the crawling- worm . What tho' from Italy or Egypt ' s womb , tJJfi lorme , tujby , or pontius raise the tomb :
^ "e sculptor ' s nicest touch can only shew , A child of dust , a mortal lies below , ^ e sons of pomp ! say , docs it much avail , jorotenahrinM i » gold , or common deal ? J | Porphyry and jasper load the dead ? u » mossy turf lie lig-hter On the head ? *^ he church where the kings of France •^ buried . + Three famous sculptors .
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When to the grave the lifeless corpse descends , The curtain drops and all distinction ends : Nor will the dust of Gax- jlia ' s royal line , With majesty distinguished brig'hter shine , Than what the wretched Lazar ' s putrid wound , Corrupted crumbles in its parent ground . Come , ye dependents on those brittle things ! The smiles of ministers and breath of king's ; Learn hence how vain your hope ! how frail your trust ! That kings are men , and moulder into dust : That sublunary greatness , earthly power , Is the reflected sun-beam of an hour : A g'iow-worm , that awhile deceives the sight , And then expires in rottenness and night . And that the man alone is truly wise , Who on the sov ' reign Lord of all relies ; With whom this truth is ever understood , That honour ' s virtue , and that great is good .
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Poetry.
POETRY .
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Defiance of the Ravages of Time , The following * beautiful lines were written by a Lady on observing some white hairs on her lover ' s head . \ JFrom the Annual Register , 1780 . ] npHOU , to whose power reluctantly we bend . Foe to life ' s fairy dreams , relentless
7 'ime , Alike the dread of lover , and of Friend , Why stamp thy seal on manhood ' s rosy prime ? Already twining " , midst my Thyrsis' hair The snowy wreaths of age , the monuments of care , Thro' all her forms , tho' nature own thy sway , That boasted sway thou'lt here exert in vain - To the last beam of life ' s declining day , Thyrsis shall view , unmovM , thy potent reign : Secure to please , whilst goodness knows to charm , Fancy and taste delight , or sense and truth inform .
Tyrant , when from that lip of crimson glow , Swept by thy chilling wing the rose shall When thy rude scythe indents his polisli'd brow , And quench'd is all the lustre of his eye ; When ruthless age disperses cv ' ry grace , Each smile that beams from that ingeuous face—
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 2, 1815, page 119, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1757/page/55/
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