AH ! royal E DWARD , whither now are flown
The festive hours of youth, the roseate train?
From thy untimely bier they vanish'd soon,
And of the giddy flutterers none remain.

What now avails the pride of rank, or pow'r,
Thy royal ancestry, illustrious, brave?
They, bowing, yield to fate in awful hour,
And mourn their glories vanquish'd in the grave.

Thy native Britain, from her chalky bourn,
Afar beholds the mournful pomp of woe;
Grieves her lamented E DWARD'S cold return,
Amaz'd and shrinking at the fatal blow.

For oft her senate heard thee, royal youth!
Earnest in Britain's, and in Freedom's cause;
With speech unstudied, eloquent in truth,
Alone regardful of her sacred laws.

But oh! alas! in life's exulting hour,
With ev'ry smiling ray of hope around;
Death, haughty leveller, exerts his pow'r,
And brings thy blooming honours to the ground.

Still more severe, inexorable Death,
In foreign climes thy awful sway to own;
In strangers' arms to yield the struggling breath,
Far, Nature, from thy tender feelings torn.

In the lov'd parent's soft embrace to lie,
Where fond affection soothes the bed of pain,
While love fraternal swells each bursting eye,
And kindred care exerts her pow'r tho' vain;

This did high Heav'n, ill-fated York ! forbid —
No perfect joys on human beings wait;
In vain each art the stern intruder chid,
He grimly smiling op'd his iron gate.

What tho' deny'd the balm of social love,
Yet princely strangers wept round E DWARD'S bed;
With anxious tenderness incessant strove
To serve him living, and revere him dead.

Illustrious Monaco! that gen'rous chief,
His royal, dying guest humanely mourn'd;
With pious awe proclaim'd his pungent grief,
And with fraternal anguish saw him urn'd.

The beauteous deed a nation's friendship claims,
All shall his worth with pleas'd remembrance tell;
And while they rev'rence E DWARD'S cold remains,
Fame on this act with gratitude shall dwell.