To the Reverend Dr. Mann, occasioned by the Death of the Rev. Mr. Holt, Senior Fellow of T. C. D.

Enough of Tears! thy gen'rous Grief suspend,
Cease to deplore thy dear departed Friend:
Let melting Nature Reason's Voice obey,
Nor bathe with fruitless Show'rs his sacred Clay.
In vain, alas! thy gushing Eyes o'erflow;
Vain are those Sighs, that unaffected Woe
For him, devoted by untimely Doom
To sleep long Ages in the silent Tomb.
From him the weeping World may learn to know,
No Worth prevents, no Wisdom wards the Blow,
The certain Blow from Death's uplifted Dart,
Whose Point, relentless, strikes the purest Heart:
No Science shields, no Piety can save
The destin'd Victim from th' insatiate Grave.
There Youth, Age, Folly, Wisdom, Weakness, Pow'r,
Fall undistinguish'd in one fatal Hour.
Whence springs this Chance beyond all mortal Ken,
This seeming Chance which rules the Fates of Men,
Thou best canst tell: Why lengthen'd out to Woe
The Wretched loiter, and the Happy go.
But shall proud Man, inquisitive, arraign
The Ways of Providence with Thoughts profane!
Shall he seek Truths to human Search deny'd,
And, impious, draw the mystick Veil aside!

The dim-ey'd Knowledge to his Soul consign'd
Puzzles his Judgment, and involves his Mind.
In Doubts perplex'd, unconscious of her Way;
A dismal Twilight, and uncertain Day
Appears weak Nature's Gleam, by Sense discry'd;
Which shines illusive in the Lamp of Pride.
Religion's Beam can make this Gloom all bright,
Clear up Conjectures, and dispel the Night.
From her pure Fountain Truths eternal flow;
From her the Hope of Bliss, the Balm of Woe;
Grief, at her Shrine, lays her sad Burthen down,
And views with upcast Eyes the promis'd Crown.
This Solace waits his Sire, this Lamp his Guide,
Robb'd of his Age's Prop, his Country's Pride:
This firm Support, this faithful Staff shall stay
His Soul's sad Weight down Life's steep rugged Way:
The Christian Cordial giv'n him to sustain
The Thought-felt Anguish, and the Pangs of Pain.
O, let him, leaning on thy Friendship, bear
This Load oppressive, and this Lot severe!
Friendship like thine springs from a faithful Heart:
You share his Sorrows, and you feel his Smart.