362 L1FJS OF COTTON. 



No marble columns, nor engraven brass, 



To tell the world that such a person was; 



For then each pious act, to fair descent, 



Stood for the worthy owner's monument : 



But in this change of manners and of states, 



Good names, though writ in marble, have their fates ; 



Such is the barb'rous, and irrev'rent, rage 



That arms the rabble $f this impious age. 



Yet may this happy stone that bears a name 

 Such as no bold survivor dares to claim 

 To ages yet unborn, unblemish'd, stand, 

 Safe from the stroke of an inhuman hand. 

 Here, reader! here a Port's sad relics lie, 

 To teach the careless world mortality ; 

 Who, while he mortal was, unrivall'd stood, 

 The crown and glory of his ancient blood ; 

 Fit for his prince's and his country's trust; 

 Pious to God, and to his neighbour just; 

 A loyal husband, to his latest end ; 

 A gracious father ; and a faithful friend : 

 lielov'd he liv'd, and died o'ercharged with years, 

 Fuller of honour than of silver, hairs. 

 And, to sum up his virtues, this was he 

 Who was what all we should, but cannot be. 



To this it may be added, that in sundry parts of his 

 writings, and even in his poems, the evidences of piety 

 in the author are discernible : among them is a para- 

 phrase on that noble and sublime hymn, the eighth 

 psalm. And in the poem entitled Stanzes irreguliers, 

 are the following lines : 



Dear solitude ; the soul's best friend ; 

 That man, acquainted with himself, dost make, 

 And all his Maker's wonders, to intend ; 

 With thee I here converse at will, 

 And would be glad to do so still, 

 For it is thou, alone, that keep'st the soul awake. 



And lastly, in the following book, he, in the person 

 of Piscator, thus utters his own sentiment of a practice 

 which few that love fishing, and have not a sense of 



