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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
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 U T U S. 
 
 MONODY 
 
 T O T H E 
 
 MEMORY 
 
 O F 
 
 Mr. BRUCE. 
 
 
 D U B L I Nt 
 
 Printed for J. S m i t h at the Pbilofophers Heads on the 
 
 Blind- ^ay. M Dcc LVii
 
 SZf/ 
 
 Advertlfement. 
 
 IN anguifh of heart was this little piece compofed, 
 very fbon after the deplorable event to which it di- 
 redlly refers \ in fuch fituations as the writer was 
 then in, things are apt to appear with a peculiar caft of 
 gloominefs, derived from, or much deepened by, the me- 
 dium thro' which they are view'd ; and on this particular 
 occafion, he believes, that every individual in Ireland who 
 truly merited the honourable diftindiion of Patriot 
 and had right apprehenfions (as mo ft fuch had) of the 
 excellent and important character of Mr. Bruce, 
 confidered his death as a grievous lols to the patriot caufe, 
 and as threatening the declenfion of its facred interefts, 
 with fomething of more real efficacy, than what mere 
 omens are pofTefled of j hence flowed thofe apprehenfions 
 exprefled towards the clofe of the poem, apprehenfions at 
 that time fo prevalent in the v/riter's mind, as to have in- 
 clined him to fubjoin to the motto as it ftands at prefent, 
 the two lines which, almoft immediately follow it in the 
 ^rachinia^ 
 
 "iAoi^a, 'uxpoijixipei i^oKixv 
 
 But 
 
 855726
 
 C iv ] 
 
 But thefe dHl:re0jng fears he has fince, with exultation of 
 heart feen difappointed, by the wife, liberal and fteady 
 condudl: of a number of gentlemen, who ^re an honour 
 to their country and the age they live in, and by an au- 
 fpicious change of the perfons and meafores of our Go- 
 vernment. 
 
 One word more, and that with relation to the name of 
 Brutus; it may poflibly occur to the reader, that 
 the likenefs in found was the quaint occafion of its being 
 diofen, tho' in truth this circum fiance was not at firft at- 
 tended to, and, when it came to be obferved, was confi- 
 dered as an objedlion to the choice ; but all objections 
 vanilh on remembering, that Marcus Brutus 
 was one of the wifeft, beft and moft amiable of thofe 
 who have lived and died in the fervice of their country 
 and the caufe of liberty, ftiining as bright and lafting or- 
 naments in the annals of mankind. 
 
 BRUTUS.
 
 BRUTUS. 
 
 M O N O D 
 
 To the Memory of Mr. BRUCE. 
 
 DEEP in a ruln'd temple's lone recefs. 
 Upon a grave, where yet no monument. 
 Of brafs or fculptur'd marble, rear'd its head. 
 With Epitaphs to make Death's triumph lefs, 
 it The freih green fod its only ornament, r 
 
 With fprigs of cyprefs, rofemary and box, 
 Scatter'd by pious hands, and yet unwithered, 
 A Totith reclin'd 5 — and forr owing he feem'd. 
 For ever and anon his bread he knocks, 
 Moft part were bent his eyes, which ceafelefs ftream'd, i o 
 To earth, tho' fometimes rais'd in piteous plight. 
 As he would fearch, half in defpair, the (kies 
 For confolation which the earth denies j 
 It was the folemn feafon of midnight. 
 
 And
 
 [6] 
 
 And folitude and file nee fad 1 1 
 
 Reign 'd with congenial darknefs^ iave \\hat light, 
 
 Which more than darknefs' felf of horror had, 
 
 Thro' the long pillar'd ifle, one dying lamp, 
 
 Its livid gleams nigh-ftrangl'd with the damp 
 
 Of graves and vaults and fweating columns, Ihed. 20 
 
 " Brutus!" 
 
 The ifles prolong the flowly rolling founds ; 
 
 " Brutus" again he cried. 
 
 From hieh-arch'd roofs his raifed \oice reboundsr 
 
 To the low-deived vaults, \^here gradually it died j 
 
 The long-drawn murmurs of each echo'd groan, 25 
 
 Sad hollow founds ! had fill'd his foul with fear. 
 
 Could he have heard, whom the cold hand of grief 
 
 Had almoit chill'd, like N i o b E,. to ftone. 
 
 Or he have terror knov/n. 
 
 To whom ev'n terror would have b;en relief. 30 
 
 " Brutus! 
 
 And art thou deaf who ever wont to hear 
 When forrozv and when wretchednefs did call ? 
 Thou, from whofe fweet perfu alive lips did fall 
 Accents, which gently ftole upon the car 
 
 Of
 
 [7] 
 
 Of ^mmg grief y and charm'd ev'n defpair^ 35 
 
 Art thou, alas ! become for ever mute ? 
 
 O ! well with me would fuit 
 
 A comforter like thee, but under ground 
 
 Thou lieft, and comfort is not to be found ! 
 
 Did the fad friend forloril 40 
 
 O'er his foul's partner mourn ? 
 Did filial piety the parent weep ? 
 The hoary fire, for his beloved child, 
 Untimely loft ! fad painful vigils keep ? 
 The plighted virgin in her forrows wild, 4^ 
 
 Her trefles rend, to ftrew her lover's hearfe. 
 Or pour her filent tears, 
 
 And, like the (how'r-kill'd lilly, hang the head ? 
 Did — 
 
 O ! height fupreme of unexpreffive woe ! 
 The faithful, tender, wretched confort left ^o 
 
 By chiefeft happinefs enjoy 'd below. 
 Sit as of foul bereft ? 
 Well, Brutus, didft thou know, 
 
 * 
 
 Where all the boafted ftrength of reafon fails, 
 From bleft religion*^ inexhaufted ftore, p r 
 
 To
 
 To pour the balm on evVy bleeding breaft j 
 Gentiy to waft, with faith's refrelhing gales, 
 The ftorm-rent bark to refignationh ihore. 
 Where hope\ ftrong anchor gives fecurity and reft. 
 
 Not with trite maxims of the ftoic-fchool, 6o 
 
 Unfeeling feft ! which pedants idly quote ; 
 Or hireling priefts with minds, at eafe, by rote 
 Who can condole, and comfort us by rule ! 
 Woe-ftruck he came, incapable of art, 
 Where nature wept, to footh the mourner's heart, 65 
 Self -loving melancholy hates the tribe 
 Who come her foes avow'd j — he felt for all, 
 And as humanity let fall 
 The drop fincere, forrow receiv'd the bribe ; 
 Pleas'd to hear him her woes fo well exprefs, 70 
 
 She fix'd attentive till (he found them lefs j 
 He knew to intermix reflections fage 
 Of God's eternal providence, and raife 
 Our raptur'd thoughts, above this little ftage, 
 To happy fields and never-ending days, 75 
 
 Meed of the good, who here ftiarp trials bore 
 Refign'd, -— where fever'd friends again ihall meet. 
 
 And
 
 I 9 ] 
 
 And hold communion fvveet, 
 
 Shall meet, in bleflednefs, to part no more ! 
 
 And why then can't thy recol levied ftralns 80 
 
 Silence my plaint, and footh my throbbing woe ? 
 Alas ! they ferve but to augment my pains j 
 The greatnefs of my lofs they well can (how, 
 But ah ! they never can that lofs fupply ! 
 For all the Jiving Grace from whence did flow 85 
 
 Their pow'r to charm, away with thee did fly ; 
 When the bright ftar whofe prefence makes the day 
 Has funk into the fea. 
 Thro' mifts and baleful I fogs the fickly moon 
 
 Gleams a refled:ed light, but all the heat is gone 90 
 
 That chear'd the hills, and ev'ry fmiling plain , 
 
 Little avails the joyiefs northern fwain 
 
 Her inefFedtual {been ; 
 
 While it reminds him of the abfent fun ; 
 
 Abfent not loft, for foon will he be feen 95 
 
 Majeftic, flaming in the eaftern flcies ; 
 
 But here my Brutus lies, 
 
 Clafp'd in corruption^ ever-loath'd embrace, 
 
 Never a^ain to rife ! 
 
 And who is he that cometh in his place ? 100 
 
 C Ah!
 
 [ 10 J 
 
 Ah ! who is he that in his place doth come ?" 
 Where is the head with equal wifdom ftor'd ? 
 Where is the feeling heart that doth afford. 
 Like his, to ev'ry human grief a home ? 
 Who in the Public-caufe, like him, doth move, loj 
 
 A6ling unweari'd for the nobleft ends ? 
 Who lives like him ? — tell me his weeping friends, 
 And wretched relatives ! — diftin^tion vain. 
 Each friend in him poflefs'd a brother's love 5 
 O ! hafte and tell me, that I may regain no 
 
 The fweet companion, the inftrucStor fage. 
 The faithfull monitor^ the chearful aid 
 Of each fine joy, and balm of ev'ry pain, 
 Guide of x2i^youth^ and prop of trembling age ; 
 Penfive they wave the head, i r 5 
 
 And fighing, point the fpot where Brutus lies j 
 Brutus, alas ! the wife the good is dead, 
 Nor lives his like beneath the out-llretch'd ikies ! 
 
 Brutus is dead, and by his * T u l L y 's fide, 
 Whofe living monument's the moral page 1 20 
 
 Hcart- 
 
 * Mr. Bruce lies burled in the grave of his beloved Friend Profeflbr Hutcheeon, tliat 
 moll excellent Moralift, 
 
 " Whofe blamelefs life ftill anfwer'd to liis fung."
 
 [ " ] 
 
 Heart-didlated, he lieth wrapt in clay ; 
 
 Lovely their union while they faw the day. 
 
 Nor could the king of terrors long divide 
 
 The chriftian heroe^ from the chriftiany^^^ ; 
 
 Of terrors ! — fuch unto the world — to them 125 
 
 The fmiling meflenger of joy he came ! 
 
 Not for myfelf I mourn, 
 Or with thefe tears bedew thy facred urn ; 
 Yet well I ween, thy more than mortal lay. 
 But chief thy fair example, from the heart 130 
 
 While ev'ry fordid, felfilh thought, away 
 Potent they chac'd, ftill took foft naturc^s part, 
 Still bad the tear down ftream at her beheft. 
 Bad all the tender feelings hold their courle, 
 And only taught to moderate their force j 135 
 
 Each paflion thus within due bounds repreft, 
 They fill'd the glowing breaft. 
 With Love of Man, of Virtue^ and of G o D j 
 Beneath his chaft'ning rod, 
 
 I bow fubmiiTive, yet my tears mud fall, 140 
 
 As forrowing o'er thy dud I bend, 
 Not that thou waft, O ! bitter word ! my friend. 
 But that thou waft the common friend of all. 
 
 Could
 
 Could ye conceive, ye folitary train, 
 Ye aloomy ones, '' who are yourfelves alone ! " shake/pear. 
 The fecial fenfe of others' joy or pain, 146 
 
 But chief what, wretches ! ye have never known 
 The home-felt tranfports confcious "jcortJo doth know, 
 Then, ev'n by ye, perchance half underftood 
 Might be the labours of his peerlefs life ; 150 
 
 Brutus might well, for his own fake, defpife, 
 Whate'er ye deem, miftaking, bad or good, 
 Falfe honours, worthlefs gains, and pleafures low. 
 The toils, the lofs, the pains, the dangers rife, 
 So Heaven perfects virtue ! which attend i^r 
 
 The man, who, like my B R u t u s, mankind's friend. 
 Sets for his conftant aim, before his eyes. 
 The caufe of virtue^ and the gen'ral weal ; 
 Temper divine ! from whence coeleftial joys 
 Unfpeakable, ineftimable flow : i (Jo 
 
 This is but half his praife. 
 For her own lovely fake he goodnefs lov'd, 
 And virtue's radiant blaze 
 
 Touch'd his confenting heart-ftrings, and them mov'd 
 To utter moral, japturous melody, 165 
 
 Like
 
 [ 13 ] 
 
 Like M E M N o N vocal to the folar ray ; 
 Delight did follow, with his honeft fame 
 His adlions' recompence, but not their aim. 
 
 Still anxious for his Country^ good, he knew. 
 No danger of miftake, hQ felt it true, 1 70 
 
 That Happinefs and Virtue are the fame. 
 And only flourifh in fair Freedom^s foil ^ 
 And never ceas'd his unremitting toil 
 To fence the precious Eden where they grew. 
 From all its foes, worft foes are feigned friends, 175 
 
 Thefe he difcern'd, howe'er difguis'd they came. 
 Whether in fable floles, ftaid JVifdotnh hue. 
 Or fpotlels white, the robes of Innocence y 
 He pluck 'd their malks, and flrait confefs'd to view, 
 ^X.oodi TcaA Ambition^ {ord'id AvaricCy 180 
 
 Fear at her fhadow fcar'd, Submiffion mean. 
 Malice and fell Revenge ; and in their train. 
 Pert Folly y leafh'd with dog-eyed Impudence^ 
 Deceit^ s fmooth face, and Falfehood^s thin pretence, 
 Corruption^ ugly form, and Terrors vain ; 185 
 
 Rous'd by his manly voice. 
 The guardian band, with civic garlands crown 'd, 
 
 D Came
 
 [14] 
 
 Came firmly on, and foon upon the ground 
 Their foes lie proftrate, while their friends rejoice f 
 
 Their friends rejoice ! — but foon alas will change 
 Their fhouts triumphant, to the notes of woe; 191 
 
 Ev'n now they change, for lo ! 
 The faithfuU Watchman^ by his toils o'ercome^ 
 Sinks to the filent tomb ! 
 
 Then Virtue felt, and Science wept the blowj, 195; 
 
 Then Commerce yell'd along the defart coaft. 
 While rocks and caves refound for Brutus loflr ; 
 And Liberty^ the mountain^Goddefs fair,^ 
 Tore her difhevell'd hair 5 
 
 Nor could Religion any comfort lend, 20a 
 
 With Faith and Charity her daughters dear, 
 Difconfolate, faft by her breathlefs friend 
 She droop'd, for Hope the youngeft was not neary 
 She, on ftrong wing, up to the realms of light 
 Bore his pure fpirit, eager to appear 205; 
 
 Before his Judge, the gracious G o D of might. 
 
 I E R N E too had fcarce refum'd her Harp, 
 Which all neglected, in her late difmay, 
 Unftrung, befide her lay ^ 
 
 Scarce
 
 [ IS] 
 
 Scarce had (he fwept the (weet accordant firings^ 210 
 
 When (he too felt ^ffliEiion\ arrow {harp. 
 
 Away the lyre fhe flings, 
 
 And fad and folemn was the dying found. 
 
 It gently warbl'd, as it reach'd the ground j 
 
 Away fhe flies where the deep cyprefs fliade 21c 
 
 Glooms difmally, there folitary laid, 
 
 She mourns her flrength and manly beauty gone. 
 
 Dead is her fav'rite fon ! 
 
 She mourns her friends, flie mourns herfelf undone \ 
 
 Her fields defencelefs left the fpoiler's prey, 220 
 
 Herfelf a thrall to FaEiton^s lawlels fway j 
 
 For fuch, while yet the recent forrow ftreams 
 
 Down from her lovely eyes, her future fate (he deems. 
 
 O ! fave her. Ye ! who gallantly did fl:and. 
 Firm in the breach, for Liberty and Law ; 22c 
 
 Ye honour'd Patriots ! ye renowned band ! 
 Whom Merty whom Angels^ whom the ^rain that \Atdi 
 For Freedom^ Seraphs now ! with rapture faw 
 Struggling, vidlorious, for an injur'd Land: 
 Monarch of Albion ! fave the loyal Dame 2^0 
 
 Who calls thee Father ! and with filial awe, 
 
 Bleffing
 
 [ i6 ] 
 
 Blefling thy hoary laurel-ftiaded head, 
 
 Refts on thy well-known virtues, on thy name 
 
 To Liberty and juftice ever dear j 
 
 From R A P I N E 's fangs, from proud Oppreffion^s paw. 
 
 Far as thy might beneficent extends, 236 
 
 Thou fav*ft thy allies, thy remoteft friends. 
 
 And Ihall thy Children — ftiall I E r n e *fear ? 
 
 From ranc'rous Malice drefs'd in flatt'ring fmiles. 
 
 From mafked 'Treafon's hell-invented wiles, 2,40 
 
 Be both preferv'd ! — " 
 
 Here ceas'd the lucklefs Touth 
 To pour his forrows in untutor'd ftrain ; 
 Keedleft of elegance, intent on truth, 
 No wreaths of laurel did he look to gain ; 
 Sweet verfe can never flow from bitter pain 5 245 
 
 Here ceas'd his lay, but ceafed not his ruth : 
 And now o'erhead the fwallows twitt'ring fkim. 
 And now fhrill cocks falute the morning grey, 
 And now the fun gan dart a level ray, 
 Peeping, unwelcome, thro' the window dim ; 250 
 
 And 110 w he hies him home, no longer will he flay. 
 
 Heu Pietas ! heu prifcd fides !
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
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