Chill Winter still preserves her torpid reign,
Still checks the rising beauties of the year;
Disease and Death attendant in her train,
Call from Affection's eye the frequent tear.
Let Grandeur now the suppliant Mourner chear,
And raise the drooping Orphan, who forlorn
Drops her sad tribute o'er a Parent's bier,
A helpless prey to Poverty and Scorn——
While thro' the streets the fun'ral pomp is bor'n
With melancholy state, and form of woe,
Let the gay heart repress its joys a while,
A while its giddy thoughtlessness forego:
The Rich and Happy cease th' insulting smile,
Muse on the scene, and learn themselves to know.