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Mary Darby Robinson - Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq.
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"Fate snatch`d him early to the pitying sky."

- POPE. 


IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign`d,
Can claim the pitying tear, or touch the mind ?
If manly sentiments unstain`d by art,
Could waken FRIENDSHIP, or delight the heart ?
Ill-fated youth ! to THEE the MUSE shall pay
The last sad tribute of a mournful lay;
On thy lone grave shall MAY`S soft dews be shed,
And fairest flowrets blossom o`er thy head;
The drooping lily, and the snow-drop pale,
  Mingling their fragrant leaves, shall there recline,
While CHERUBS hov`ring on th` ethereal gale,
  Shall chaunt a requiem o`er the hallow`d shrine. 
And if Reflection`s piercing eye should scan 
The trivial frailties of imperfect MAN; 
If in thy generous heart those passions dwelt, 
Which all should own, and all that live have felt; 
Yet was thy polish`d mind so pure, so brave, 
The young admir`d thee, and the old forgave. 

And when stern FATE, with ruthless rancour, press`d 
Thy withering graces to her flinty breast; 
Bright JUSTICE darted from her bless`d abode, 
And bore thy VIRTUES to the throne of GOD; 
While cold OBLIVION stealing o`er thy mind, 
Each youthful folly to the grave consign`d. 

  O, if thy purer spirit deigns to know 
Each thought that passes in this vale of woe, 
Accept the incense of a tender tear, 
By PITY wafted on a sigh sincere. 
And if the weeping MUSE a wreath could give 
To grace thy tomb, and bid thy VIRTUES live; 
THEN Wealth should blush the gilded mask to wear, 
And Avarice shrink the victim of Despair. 
While GENIUS bending o`er thy sable bier, 
Should mourn her darling SON with many a tear, 
While in her pensive form the world should view 
The ONLY PARENT that thy SORROWS knew.
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