Il8 MEMOIRS OF 



Beats not the bell again ? Heav'ns I do I wake? 

 Why heave my fighs, why gum my tears anew ? 

 Unreal forms my trembling doubts miftake, 

 And 'frantic Sorrow fears the vilion true. 



Dream ! to Eliza bend thy airy flight, 

 Go, tell my charmer all my tender fears, 

 How Love's fond woes alarm the filent night, 

 And fteep my pillow in unpitied tears. 



The fecond verfe of this charming elegy 

 affords an inflance of Dr. Darwin's too ex- 

 cluiive devotion to diftincl picture in poe- 

 try ; that it fometimes betrayed him into 

 bringing objects fo precifely to the eye, as 

 to lofe in fuch precifion their power of link- 

 ing forcibly upon the heart. The pathos in 

 that fecond verfe is injured by the words, 

 t( mimic lace" which allude to the perforated 

 borders of the fhroud. The expreffion is 

 too minute for the folemnity of the fubjecl. 

 Certainly it cannot be natural for a fhocked 

 and agitated mind to obferve, or to de- 

 fcribe with fuch petty accuracy. Befides 



the 



