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| GRIM monarch! see, depriv’d of vital breath, | |
| A young physician in the dust of death: | |
| Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, | |
| Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? | |
| Enough thou never yet wast known to say, | 5 |
| Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: | |
| Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, | |
| Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move. | |
| The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save, | |
| In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave. | 10 |
| Fair mourner, there see thy lov’d Leonard laid, | |
| And o’er him spread the deep impervious shade; | |
| Clos’d are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep | |
| His senses bound in never-waking sleep, | |
| Till time shall cease, till many a starry world | 15 |
| Shall fall from heav’n, in dire confusion hurl’d, | |
| Till nature in her final wreck shall lie, | |
| And her last groan shall rend the azure sky: | |
| Not, not till then his active soul shall claim | |
| His body, a divine immortal frame. | 20 |
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| But see the softly-stealing tears apace | |
| Pursue each other down the mourner’s face; | |
| But cease thy tears, bid ev’ry sigh depart, | |
| And cast the load of anguish from thine heart: | |
| From the cold shell of his great soul arise, | 25 |
| And look beyond, thou native of the skies; | |
| There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind | |
| Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind. | |
| Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night | |
| To join for ever on the hills of light: | 30 |
| To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves | |
| To thee, the partner of his earthly loves; | |
| He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin’d, | |
| And better suited to th’ immortal mind. | |
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