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Attend, ye fair, ye thoughtless, and ye gay!
Fo: Mira dy'd upon the nuptial day!
The grave, cold bridegroom! clasp'd her in his arm,
Aur kindred worms destroy'd her pleasing charms.
Truter tomb the old Avara lies;
(Ore he was sich, the world esteem'd him wise)
Schemes unaccomplish'd labour'd in his mind,
And all his thoughts were to this world confin'd;
Death came untook'd for, from his g. asping Hand,',
*Down dropt his bags, and mortgages of lands.
· Beneath this sculptor d pompous marble stone
Lies youthful Florio aged twenty-one : ' n
Cropp'd like a fower he wither'd in his bloom
Tho' fatt'ring life had promis'd years to come.
Ye silken sons, ye Florio's of the age!
Who tread in giddy maze, life's How'ry stage,
Mark here the end of man, in Florio see, ..
What you and all the sons of mirth must be. ...

There low in dust the vain Hortensio lies,
Whose splendor was beheld with envious eyes;
Titles and arms his pompous marble grace,
With a long hist'ry of his noble race:
Still after death his vanity survives, .
And on his tomb, all of Hortensio lives!

Around me, as I turn'd my wand'ring eyes,
Unnumber'd graves in awful prospect rise, .
Whose stones say only when their owners dy'd,
· If young or aged, and to whom ally'd ;.
On others, pompous epitaphs are spread,
In memory of the virtues of the dead;
2ū22–22–222/22/2/2/2 ņēti?ēti?2?§Â2Ò2§§§Â2â??

I he judgment day alone will make appear.

How silent is this little spot of ground! How melancholy looks each object round! Here man dissolv’d, in scatter'd ruin lies So fast asleep-as if no more to rise ; Tis strange to think, how these dead bones can live, Leap into form, and with new heat revive! Or how this trodden earth to life shall wake, Know its own place, its former figure take; But whence these doubts? when the last trumpet sounds, Chro' heav'n's expanse, to earth's remotest bounds, The dead shall quit these tenements of clay, And view again the long extinguish'd day; Cheer'd with this pleasing hope, I safely trust Ch' Almighty's pow'r to raise me from the dust; On his unfailing promises rely, Ind all the horrors of the grave defy; Death, where's thy sting? Grave, where's thy vic

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Theer Almighty ng promiebe gray

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