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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">"Fate snatch'd him early to the pitying sky."</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">- POPE. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign'd,<br>Can claim the pitying tear, or touch the mind ?<br>If manly sentiments unstain'd by art,<br>Could waken FRIENDSHIP, or delight the heart ?<br>Ill-fated youth ! to THEE the MUSE shall pay<br>The last sad tribute of a mournful lay;<br>On thy lone grave shall MAY'S soft dews be shed,<br>And fairest flowrets blossom o'er thy head;<br>The drooping lily, and the snow-drop pale,<br>Mingling their fragrant leaves, shall there recline,<br>While CHERUBS hov'ring on th' ethereal gale,<br>Shall chaunt a requiem o'er the hallow'd shrine. <br>And if Reflection's piercing eye should scan <br>The trivial frailties of imperfect MAN; <br>If in thy generous heart those passions dwelt, <br>Which all should own, and all that live have felt; <br>Yet was thy polish'd mind so pure, so brave, <br>The young admir'd thee, and the old forgave. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And when stern FATE, with ruthless rancour, press'd <br>Thy withering graces to her flinty breast; <br>Bright JUSTICE darted from her bless'd abode, <br>And bore thy VIRTUES to the throne of GOD; <br>While cold OBLIVION stealing o'er thy mind, <br>Each youthful folly to the grave consign'd. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=455617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O, if thy purer spirit deigns to know <br>Each thought that passes in this vale of woe, <br>Accept the incense of a tender tear, <br>By PITY wafted on a sigh sincere. <br>And if the weeping MUSE a wreath could give <br>To grace thy tomb, and bid thy VIRTUES live; <br>THEN Wealth should blush the gilded mask to wear, <br>And Avarice shrink the victim of Despair. <br>While GENIUS bending o'er thy sable bier, <br>Should mourn her darling SON with many a tear, <br>While in her pensive form the world should view <br>The ONLY PARENT that thy SORROWS knew.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a></strong></div>