On the Death of Dr. Samuel Marshall. 1771

THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal shade,On that confusion which thy death has made:Or from Olympus' height look down, and seeA Town involv'd in grief bereft of thee.Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead,And rends the graceful tresses from her head,Wild in her woe, with grief unknown opprestSigh follows sigh deep heaving from her breast.Too quickly fled, ah! whither art thou gone?Ah! lost for ever to thy wife and son!The hapless child, thine only hope and heir,Clings round his mother's neck, and weeps his sorrows there.The loss of thee on Tyler's soul returns,And Boston for her dear physician mourns.When sickness call'd for Marshall's healing hand,With what compassion did his soul expand?In him we found the father and the friend:In life how lov'd! how honour'd in his end!And must not then our AEsculapius stayTo bring his ling'ring infant into day?The babe unborn in the dark womb is tost,And seems in anguish for its father lost.Gone is Apollo from his house of earth,But leaves the sweet memorials of his worth:The common parent, whom we all deplore,From yonder world unseen must come no more,Yet 'midst our woes immortal hopes attendThe spouse, the sire, the universal friend.

WHILE others chant of gay Elysian scenes,Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow'ry plains,My song more happy speaks a greater name,Feels higher motives and a nobler flame.For thee, O R-----, the muse attunes her strings,And mounts sublime above inferior things.I sing not now of green embow'ring woods,I sing not now the daughters of the floods,I sing not of the storms o'er ocean driv'n,And how they howl'd along the waste of heav'n.But I to R----- would paint the British shore,And vast Atlantic, not untry'd before:Thy life impair'd commands thee to arise,Leave these bleak regions and inclement skies,Where chilling winds return the winter past,And nature shudders at the furious blast.O thou stupendous, earth-enclosing mainExert thy wonders to the world again!If ere thy pow'r prolong'd the fleeting breath,Turn'd back the shafts, and mock'd the gates of death,If ere thine air dispens'd an healing pow'r,Or snatch'd the victim from the fatal hour,This equal case demands thine equal care,And equal wonders may this patient share.But unavailing, frantic is the dreamTo hope thine aid without the aid of himWho gave thee birth and taught thee where to flow,And in thy waves his various blessings show.May R----- return to view his native shoreReplete with vigour not his own before,Then shall we see with pleasure and surprise,And own thy work, great Ruler of the skies!

To the Rev. DR. THOMAS AMORY, onreading his Sermons on DAILY DEVOTION,in which that Duty is recommended andassisted.

TO cultivate in ev'ry noble mindHabitual grace, and sentiments refin'd,Thus while you strive to mend the human heart,Thus while the heav'nly precepts you impart,O may each bosom catch the sacred fire,And youthful minds to Virtue's throne aspire!When God's eternal ways you set in sight,And Virtue shines in all her native light,In vain would Vice her works in night conceal,For Wisdom's eye pervades the sable veil.Artists may paint the sun's effulgent rays,But Amory's pen the brighter God displays:While his great works in Amory's pages shine,And while he proves his essence all divine,The Atheist sure no more can boast aloudOf chance, or nature, and exclude the God;As if the clay without the potter's aidShould rise in various forms, and shapes self-made,Or worlds above with orb o'er orb profoundSelf-mov'd could run the everlasting round.It cannot be--unerring Wisdom guidesWith eye propitious, and o'er all presides.Still prosper, Amory! still may'st thou receiveThe warmest blessings which a muse can give,And when this transitory state is o'er,When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more,May Amory triumph in immortal fame,A nobler title, and superior name!