998 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1805* 



And dying Burns — our praise, our sighs, 



In incense vain, too late arise ! 



. — But thou, fond youth, go, wiser thou. 



To prudence bear thy timely vow; 



The poet's fame, the lyre divine, 



But not the poet's fate be thine. 



ON THE DEATH OF 



* * * AFTER A SHORT ILLNESS, 



rnOM POEMS BY 

 THE HONOURABLE 'WILLIAM HERBERT. 



IF manners mild with mirth Combined, 

 J f truth adorns a female mind, 

 And fond domestic love, 

 Sweet maid, adier ! the farewell tear, 

 ^Vhich friendship pays thine early bier, 

 Shall every saint approve. 



For not the brightest fairest rays, 

 Which beauty's slippery form displays. 



So reason can enthrall, 

 As the chaste heart, devoid of pride, 

 The smdc to gentle joys allied, 



When harmless pleasures calf. 



Thy name amidst the circle gay, 

 Who in life's idle sunshine play, 



Shall soon be heard no more ; 

 But those, who loved thy gentle form', • 

 Whose hearts can prize each social charm, 



Willlong thy loss deplore. 



Friendship, 'when many a winter's blast 

 Shall o'er thy mouldering tomb have pass'cJ 



Will still thine image view ; 

 Still will the mind, which draws to light 

 Each fleeting scene of past delight, 



The tender thought renew. 



Sweet maid, farewell ! thy smiling face 

 The mournful friend no more shall trace 

 Amidst the moving crowd j 



S But 



