Revd Willm Peter
Willm Skelton Sculp
it.
GEORGE-MONCK BERKELEY ESQRE . L.L.B. F.S.S.A.
of Magdalene Hall. Oxford
student of the Inner Temple. London. Who during the last eighteen Years of his life was the only Child of the REV• GEORGE BERKELEY L.L.D. Prebendary of Canterbury. CHANCELLOR of BRECKNOCK &c. the
child of the Right Rev• . George Berkeley
the illustrious late LORD BISHOP of CLOYNE in IRELAND.
nly
of the
pious and learned Francis
Esq• . of Shottesbrook House in the County of Berks.
on the 26th of Janu
Aged 20.
Death was an unspeakable grief to his Parents.
AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH of MISS M
s. ELDEST DAUGHTER OF D
M
, ESQ. OF THE F
H
, C
, BERKSHIRE. WHO DIED THE 8th OF JULY, 1785.
BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE INNER TEMPLE.
IF purest virtue, sense refin'd in youth,
Religious wisdom, and a love of truth,
A mind that knew no thought ignobly mean,
A temper sweetly chearful, yet serene,
A breast that glow'd with those immortal fires
Which Godlike charity alone inspires:
If these could lengthen sate's tremendous doom
And snatch one moment from the gaping tomb,
Death had relenting thrown his dart aside,
And HARRIOT, O my HARRIOT, had not died.
EARL of ORRERY.
"WATCH, O WATCH O'ER HER DUST, YE GENTLE POWERS
"WHO KINDLY CALM THE SAINT'S DEPARTING HOURS."
MARIA; or, THE GENEROUS RUSTIC.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR H. D. SYMONDS, STATIONER'S COURT, LUDGATE-STREET. MDCCLXXXVI.
TO THE SURVIVING MEMBERS OF THAT TRULY AMIABLE FAMILY OF WHICH MISS M
s WAS ONCE A BRIGHT, A DISTINGUISHED, AND A JUSTLY VALUED ORNAMENT, ARE THE FOLLOWING LINES INSCRIBED, BY THEIR SYMPATHIZING FRIEND, THE AUTHOR
ADVERTISEMENT.
THESE lines are sacred to the memory of ONE who, not satisfied with the attainment of every female excellence, and every human virtue, soared, on adventurous wing, into the regions of science and philosophy. She successfully rivalled those who have long been accustomed to behold with
indifference,
if not with
contempt,
the efforts of feminine genius, when either classical learning or philosophical disquisition have been the objects of pursuit.
ALIKE distinguished by elegance of manners, by brilliancy of imagination, and soundness of judgment, it is almost needless to observe that, whilst living, she commanded the esteem and admiration of all who were so fortunate as to rank in the number of her friends, and who now join in sincerely regretting that Heaven, has for ever veiled from their eyes, ONE whose beauty, wit, and virtue, adorned a sex that has seldom, if ever produced her superior.
IT is with just diffidence that these lines are now submitted to the public inspection. The Author had withheld them from the press in expectation that some abler bard would tune the lyre to the memory of his lamented friend. Encouraged however by the reception of a former work, he once more ventures himself as a candidate for public approbation; convinced that if it be merited, it will not be withheld.
IN the Elegy he has expressed his hopes that the poetical powers of Mr. Graves
The ingenious author of Euphrosyne, &c. &c.
, the elegant panegyrist of Miss M
s in her infancy, will once more be exerted in paying a worthy tribute to her memory. Should the perusal of these lines suggest to that accomplished scholar, the idea of favouring the world with a fresh specimen of his poetical talents, the Author will have the satisfaction of knowing that, however little his own performance may have merited the
indulgence
of the public, it will have given birth to one, that will challenge universal
applause,
and perpetuate the virtues of his amiable and accomplished friend—to whom, alas! he now bids a reluctant adieu in the words of Milton:
"Since to part,
"Go heavenly guest, aetherial messenger,
"Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore.
"Gentle to me and affable hath been
"Thy condescension, and shall be honoured ever
"With grateful memory."
PAR. LOST, Book viii.
INNER TEMPLE, London,
January
3, 1786.
AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH of MISS M
s.
AS yet 'twas
fancied
woes alone I sung,
But now by
real
grief my lyre is strung.
'Tis HARRIET's gentle shade demands the lay;
Do thou MELPOMENE the tribute pay.
Dear to the Muses, to the Graces dear,
They all shall weep o'er HARRIET's honour'd bier.
HARRIET who from wisdom's hallowed page
Had snatch'd the spoil of every distant age.
Pardon, thou honour'd shade, these untaught lays
In which I vainly 'tempt to sing thy praise.
Alas! no rude, no untaught verse like mine
Is incense worthy of a HARRIET's shrine.
An
abler
bard thy many virtues claim,
An abler bard
shall
celebrate thy name.
Now shall the lyre
again
by him be strung,
Who in the down of life
Vide a Collection of Poems, entitled Euphrosyne (vol. i. p. 38) written by Mr. Graves, the classical author of the Spiritual Quixote, Columella, and Anecdotes of the Golden Vale.
thy praises sung.
GRAVES shall the sad, the mournful tribute pay,
And hail thy spirit in the realms of day.
Each female charm, each human virtue thine,
By MANLIUS, by me, by all esteem'd divine.
Long may we gaze on beauty's varied throng,
And give to them the gently flowing song;
But when, ah! when, shall we
thy
equal see?
When look on her we may compare with thee?
IN yonder shade whilst Harriet's urn we place,
(That shade which once her charms were wont to grace)
Behold you lovely, weeping, woe-worn train,
The boasted pride of this our village plain;
Who at this awful hour by sorrow led,
Seek the drear mansions of the silent dead,
And at a much lov'd sister's hallow'd bier,
Pay the sad tribute of a hopeless tear;
Whilst MANLIUS, whose generous breast is fraught
With all the virtue Grecian sages taught,
Midst midnight horror and funereal gloom
Resign'd beholds a much lov'd daughter's tomb.
Yet deem not ye that he no sorrow feels,
'Tis true philosophy his grief conceals.
Know on his peace this dire misfortune preys,
And will, we dread, cut short his valu'd days.
BUT mark yon aged venerable band
Who round their HARRIET's grave, in sorrow stand!
Those are the sons of poverty and woe,
Whose tears at her command had ceas'd to flow:
But by her death alas! their woes revive,
Again with penury they're doom'd to strive.
Ah! say who now shall all their grief assuage?
Ah! say who now shall cheer their drooping age?
MANLIUS in whose breast each virtue reigns,
'Tis HE shall
now
support these aged swains,
Shall bid their cruel fears' their sorrows cease,
And smooth their passage to the realms of peace.
BUT say what form majestic now appears,
Oppress'd by sorrow and dissolv'd
tears?
Her sighs, her groans, her wild distracted air,
All, all proclaim a wretched MOTHER's care.
Now o'er the yawning grave she wildly bends,
And now to heaven unnumber'd sighs she sends;
Whilst both her sons sad partners of her woe,
In silent grief their heartfelt sorrow shew.
IN slow procession o'er the gloomy plain,
See the sad father lead the wretched train,
Who now in solemn silence homeward turn,
And quit, reluctant quit, their HARRIET's urn.
But mark! tho' chang'd the spot, not chang'd the scene,
Nor yet their bosoms know a grief serene.
For lo! the sight of yonder dreary walls
Her
lov'd idea and
their
grief recals.
Their grief may heaven in pity soon bid cease,
Soon may their tortur'd souls be hush'd to peace.
May heaven-born hope direct their streaming eyes
To those bless'd realms beyond the azure skies,
Where HARRIET's virtues meet a bright reward
From HEAVEN's ALMIGHTY AND ETERNAL LORD.
THE EPITAPH.
TRAV'LER! who e'er thou art, that seek'st this tomb,
And view'st with pleasure the surrounding gloom,
Stay, nor to beauty's urn thy tears refuse,
But let them fall like summer's sweetest dews.
O long uninjur'd may this willow wave,
And long protect this ever honour'd grave.
For
know,
beneath its sadly drooping shade
There rest the ashes of
a lovely maid,
If virtuous worth be heaven's peculiar care,
She does its brightest, noblest pleasures share.
Do thou, by Harriet's bright example led,
The unfrequented paths of virtue tread.
So shalt thou dauntless meet the power of death,
And so shall hope receive thy latest breath.
FINIS.