On the Death of Mr. Charles Worgan

Blooming innocence, adieu,
Lovely, transitory flower!
Faded is thy youthful hue,
Ended is thy morning hour;
Death hath closed thy sleeping eyes,
Opening them in paradise.

Ravish'd hence by sovereign love,
Wing'd with empyrean fire,
Soars thy soul to joys above.
Mingled with the' immortal chbir,
Hears the music of the spheres,
All those heavenly harpers hears.

Happy harmonist, to thee
Sovereign love assigns a place,
Crowns thy spotless purity,
Decks thy head with brighter rays,
Bids thee join the virgin throng,
Chant the' inimitable song.

Hastening through this mortal vale,
Lo, we after thee aspire.
Where thou dost their triumph swell,
Raise their highest raptures higher;
Sing the glorious One in Three,
Shout through all eternity.