358 THE WEDGWOODS. 



He needs no verse in artful language drest, 

 Where well-earn'd fame will live in ev'ry breast. 

 Dear friend of men, thy philanthropic mind 

 Felt daily for the miseries of thy kind ; 

 Thy liberal hand ten thousand blessings spread, 

 And oft supplied the hungry poor with bread. 

 When wintry winds with hollow murmurs blew, 

 And fleecy snow in circling eddies flew, 

 In this rough season of the rolling year 

 The sigh of sorrow met thy tender ear ; 

 The shivering limbs were cover'd from the cold, 

 The orphan succour'd and relieved the old j 

 These bending o'er the grave shall weeping show 

 The striking marks of unaffected woe. 

 No common loss afflicts our throbbing hearts, 

 A nation feels when such a man departs. 

 Say ye, who near his favoured mansion dwell, 

 How truly good he was, for ye can tell ; 

 Say how his active mind with genius flred, 

 Display those arts which all the world admired : 

 Those fine turn'd models, where at once we spy 

 That just proportion which attracts the eye ; 

 Nor Greece nor Rome stands matchless now in fame, 

 While Wedgwood's genius bears an equal claim. 

 Ye sons of Art ! with me his death deplore ! 

 Your Father friend, and Patron is no more : 

 Whose fostering hand made modest merit live, 

 And busy commerce all around him thrive. 

 Such the true Patriot who improves the hours, 

 And for his country's weal employs his powers. 

 While pension'd peers inactive dream'd away 

 In dull stupidity life's fleeting day, 

 His soul superior ranged the fictile field, 

 Where heavenly science sweet instruction yield, 

 Traced classic ground, and from Italian shores, 

 With skill unrivall'd drew the choicest stores. 

 Such the true patriot, from whose gates each day 

 A crowd of healthy workmen make their way, 

 Whose rare productions foreign courts demand, 

 And while they praise, enrich his native land. 

 View his ETRURIA, late a barren waste, 

 Now high in culture and adorn'd with taste ; 

 The pine, the beech, their ample branches spread, 

 . And the tall poplar rears his pointed head ; 

 The broad canal here winds his watery way 

 Through the long vale with native beauties gay." 



