Here sleeps the bold Wh――tbr――d, whose temper was such That we scarce can admire or condemn it too much: Who, born for high purposes, lowered his mind, And gave to a mob what was meant for mankind: Who, proud in his nature, still wearied his throat In wheedling a cobler to lend him a vote: Who, too wild for utility, wander’d so far That his passion for peace kept him always at war: Though equal to most things, for all things unfit; Too pert for a statesman, too coarse for a wit: Untrue to the Talents, uncouth to the Regent, And fond of all changes, howe’er inexpedient:―― So ’twas always his fate to find fault out of season, Most strongly to speak, and most weakly to reason. Here C――tl――r――gh lies, with a mind like the mint, Exhaustless and sterling the stores that were in’t. His well-bred demeanour still bore him along Unhurt through a roaring and riotous throng, Where staunch to his duty, yet slow to offend, He softened the means, but to strengthen the end. Would you know, more at large, by what talents he shone? His country will tell you――for all was her own. Here slumbers poor Sh――rry, whose fate I must sigh at! Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet. What spirits were his, how elastic and subtle! Now cracking a jest, and now cracking a bottle! Now swift as an archer to tickle and gall, Now strong as a phalanx to shake and appal! In short, so provoking a devil was Dick, That we wished him full ten times a day at old Nick, But missing his mirth and agreeable vein, As often we wished to have Dick back again. Here S――dm――th reposes, whose virtues and parts Were a light and a model to well-ordered hearts: A friend of religion, who made it his care To live as men ought to be, not as they are. Yet perhaps he has sometimes exceeded the line, And wire-drawn his measures too piously fine. To a coming millenium has fashioned his views, Or the ancient theocracy marked for the Jews. Say, where has his genius this malady caught, Of reasoning on man, as if man had no fault? Say, was it, that tired of applying his mind To estimate coolly the mass of mankind, Quite sick of pursuing each versatile elf, At last he grew lazy, and judged from himself?