Blush grandeur, blush! proud courts, withdraw your blaze;

Ye little stars! hide your diminished rays.

And what? no monument, inscription, stone,

His race, his form, his name almost unknown?

Who builds a church to God, and not to fame

Will never mark the marble with his

name.

POPE.

ELEGY ON MISTRESS ELIZABETH DRURY.

SHE, of whose soul, if we may say, 'twas gold,

Her body was the Electrum, and did hold

Many degrees of that; we understood Her by her sight; her pure and eloquent blood

Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,

That one might almost say, her body thought.

She, she thus richly, largely housed, is gone,

And chides us slow-paced snails who crawl upon

Our prison's prison, Earth, nor think us well

Longer than whilst we bear our little shell.

And see all things despoiled of fallacies;

Thou shalt not peep through lattices of eyes,

Nor hear through labyrinths of ears, nor learn

By circuit or collections to discern; In heaven then straight know'st all concerning it,

And what concerns it not, shall straight forget.

There thou but in no other school mayst be

Perchance as learned and as full as she;

She, who all libraries had thoroughly read

At home in her own thoughts, and practised

So much good as would make as many more.

Up, up, my drowsy soul! where thy

new ear

Shall in the angels' songs no discord hear;

Where thou shalt see the blessed Mother-maid

Joy in not being that which men have said;

Where she's exalted more for being

good,

(As to their number,) to their dignities.

She whom we celebrate is gone before:

She who had here so much essential joy,

As no chance could distract, much less destroy;

Who with God's presence was acquainted so,

(Hearing and speaking to him,) as to know

His face in any natural stone or tree
Better than when in images they be:
Who kept by diligent devotion
God's image in such reparation
Within her heart, that what decay
was grown

Was her first Parent's fault, and not her own:

Who, being solicited to any act, Still heard God pleading his safe pre-contract:

Who, by a faithful confidence was

Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;

Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.

Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart:

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,

So didst thou travel on life's common way,

In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart

The lowliest duties on herself did lay. WORDSWORTH.

WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY.

And the star of my fate hath declined,

Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.

Though human, thou didst not deceive me;

Though woman, thou didst not forsake;

Though loved, thou foreborest to grieve me;

Though slandered, thou never couldst shake.

Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me;

Though parted, it was not to fly; Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me,

Nor mute that the world might belie.