Thy praise to merit unrefined.

4 When fainting Nature call'd for aid,
And hovering Death prepared the blow,
His vigorous remedy display'd
The power of Art without the show.

5 In Misery's darkest cavern known,
His useful care was ever nigh;
Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,
And lonely Want retired to die.

6 No summons, mock'd by chill delay;
No petty gain, disdain'd by pride;
The modest wants of every day,
The toil of every day supplied.

7 His virtues walk'd their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
And sure the Eternal Master found
The single talent well employ'd,

8 The busy day--the peaceful night,
Unfelt, unclouded, glided by;
His frame was firm--his powers were bright,
Though now his eightieth year was nigh.

9 Then with no fiery, throbbing pain,
No cold gradations of decay,
Death broke at once the vital chain,