Classic Poem

And yet we knew that he must one day dye,
 That should our grief asswage;
By Sword, or Shot, or by Infirmity;
 Or, if these fail'd, by Age.
 But he, alas! too soon gave place
To the Successors of his Noble Race:
We wisht, and coveted to have him long,
 He was not old enough to dye so soon,
 And they to finish what he had begun,
As much too young:
But Time, that had no hand in his mischance,
Is fitter to mature, and to advance
Their early hopes to the Inheritance
Of Titles, Honors, Riches and Command,
Their Glorious Grandsir's Merits have obtain'd,
And which shines brighter than a Ducal Crown,
Of their Illustrous Family's Renown;
Oh, may there never fail of that brave Race,
A man as great, as the great Ossory was,
To serve his Prince, and as successful prove
In the same Valour, Loyalty and Love;
Whilst his own Vertues swell the cheeks of Fame,
And from his consecrated Urn doth flame
A Glorious Pyramid to Botelers Name.