In the morning before the battle, as always upon action, he was very cheerful, and put himself into the first rank of the Lord Byron's regiment, then advancing upon the enemy, who had lined the hedges on both sides with musketeers; from whence he was shot with a musket in the lower part of the belly, and in the instant falling from his horse, his body was not found till the next morning; till when, there was some hope he might have been a prisoner; though his nearest friends, who knew his temper, received small comfort from that imagination. Thus fell that incomparable young man, in the four-and-thirtieth year of his age, having so much despatched the true business of life, that the oldest rarely attain to that immense knowledge, and the youngest enter not into the world with more innocency: whosoever leads such a life, needs be the less anxious upon how short warning it is taken from him. XI. VENI, CREATOR SPIRITUS. JOHN DRYDEN.--1631-1700. Creator Spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations first were laid, Come, visit every pious mind; Come, pour thy joys on humankind; From sin and sorrow set us free, And make thy temples worthy thee. O source of uncreated light, The Father's promis'd Paraclete! Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire; Come, and thy sacred unction bring To sanctify us, while we sing. Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in thy sevenfold energy! Thou strength of his Almighty hand, Whose power does heaven and earth command; Proceeding Spirit, our defence, Who dost the gift of tongues dispense, And crown'st thy gift with eloquence. Refine and purge our earthy parts; But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts! Our frailties help, our vice control, Submit the senses to the soul; And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay thy hand, and hold them down. Chase from our minds the infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of Love, bestow; And lest our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way. Make us eternal truths receive, And practise all that we believe: Give us thy self, that we may see The Father and the Son by thee. Immortal honor, endless fame, Attend the Almighty Father's name: The Saviour Son be glorified, Who for lost man's redemption died: And equal adoration be, Eternal Paraclete, to thee! XII. LINES PRINTED UNDER THE PORTRAIT OF MILTON. DRYDEN. Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd, The next in majesty, in both the last. The force of Nature could no farther go; To make a third she join'd the former two. XIII. REASON. DRYDEN. _From_ RELIGIO LAICI.