He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, back. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallowed what came, gave! How did Grub-street re-echo the shouts that you rais'd, While he was be-roscius'd, and you were be-prais'd! But peace to his spirit, where-ever it flies, To act as an angel, and mix with the skies; Those poets who owe their best fame to his skill Here old John Randal lies, who telling of his tale, Liv'd three-score years and ten, such virtue was in ale. Ale was his meat, ale was his drink, ale did his heart revive; And if he could have drank his ale, he still had been alive On a profligate Mathematician at Manchester. Here lies John Hill, A man of skill, His age was five times ten: He ne'er did good, Nor ever would, Had he liv'd as long again. WESTMINSTER ABBEY. Sacred to the memory of Sir GODFREY KNELLER, Knight of the Roman Empire, and a Baronet of England; Painter to the Kings Charles 2d, James 2d, William 3d, Queen Ann, And King George the first, He died October 26, 1723, aged 77. Kneller, by heav'n, and not a master taught, Ten sovereigns sat to Sir Godfrey Kneller; not one of them discovered that he was fit for more than preserving their likeness. These were Charles II. James I. and his queen; William and Mary, Anne, George I. Louis XIV. Peter the Great, and the emperor Charles VI. For the last portrait Leopold created Kneller knight of the Roman empire-by Anne he was made a gentleman of the privy-chamber, and by the University of Oxford a doctor. When he had finished the picture of Louis XIV, that prince asked him what mark of his esteem would be most agreeable to him? he answered modestly and genteely, that if his majesty would bestow a quarter of an hour on him, that he might make a drawing of his head for himself, he should think it the highest honour he could pos sibly receive. The king complied, and the painter drew him on grey paper with black and red chalk heightened with white. ON SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. Here Reynolds is laid; and to tell you my mind, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart: When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Corregios, and stuff, He shifted his trumpet*, and only took snuff. * Sir Joshua was so remarkably déaf, as to be under the ne cessity of using an ear-trumpet in company. ÓN ELIZA JONES, Wife of the Rev. John Jones, by Anne Seward, O! pure of spirit, that hast soar'd away And teach his soul thy wounding loss to bear, Their mother's virtue, and their father's love. In the Cloisters of Westminster Abbey. Reader If thou art a Briton, Behold this tomb with reverence and regret : DANIEL PULTENEY, The kindest relation, the truest friend, Sufficient to have distinguished him even in the best. Industrious by habit, Inquisitive with art, He gained a complete knowledge of the state of Britain, Foreign and domestic, In most the backward fruits of tedious experience, In him the early acquisition of undissipated youth, He served the court several years: Abroad, in the auspicious reign of Queen Anne, At home, in the reign of that excellent prince George I. He served his country always; At court independant, In the senate unbiassed: At every age and in every station, |