Ay, what was worth, last week, a good half million, Screw'd down in yonder hearse. S. Then he was born Under a lucky planet, who to-day Puts mourning on for his inheritance. T. When first I heard his death, that very speech Leapt to my lips; but now the closing scene Of the comedy hath waken'd wiser thoughts: And I bless God, that, when I go to the grave, There will not be the weight of wealth like his To sink me down. S. The camel and the needle, Is that, then, in your mind? T. Even so. The text Is gospel wisdom. I would ride the camel,- Could pass the narrow gate. S. Your pardon, sir; But sure this lack of Christian charity T. Your pardon, too, sir, If, with this text before me, I should feel In the preaching mood! But for these barren fig-trees, With all their flourish and their leafiness, We have been told their destiny and use, When the axe falls upon their root, and they S. Was his wealth Stored fraudfully; the spoil of orphans wrong'd, Fair legal interests, bonds and mortgages, Ships to the east and west. So hardly of the dead? S. Why judge you then T. For what he left Undone;-for sins not one of which is mention'd In the ten commandments. He, I warrant him, T. As all men know T. We track the streamlet by the brighter green And livelier growth it gives: but as for thisThis was a pool that stagnated and stunk; The rains of heaven engendered nothing in it But slime and foul corruption. S. Yet even these Are reservoirs, whence public charity T. Now, sir, you touch Upon the point. This man of half a million Had all these public virtues which you praise: To that hard face. Yet he was always found His alms were money put to interest When, for the trusted talents, strict account Shall be required from all, and the old Arch-Lawyer Plead his own cause as plaintiff. sir you, : S. I must needs Believe Than the old servant of the family! How can this man have lived, that thus his death T. Who should lament for him, sir, in whose heart Love had no place, nor natural charity? The parlour spaniel, when she heard his step, How could it be but thus? Arithmetic Was the sole science he was ever taught. When yet he was a boy, and should have breathed To give his blood its natural spring and play, Poor muck-worm! through his threescore years and ten. And when the earth shall now be shovell'd on him, A bright example. T. Even half a million Gets him no other praise. But come this way Some twelve months hence, and you will find his virtues Trimly set forth in lapidary lines; Faith, with her torch beside, and little Cupids Dropping upon his urn their marble tears. SOUTHEY. 74. THE POPLAR FIELD. THE poplars are fell'd! farewell to the shade, Twelve years have elapsed since I last took a view And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat; COWPER. 75. GREECE. [From THE GIAOUR.] HE who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, |