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Yet still we wonder at thy tow'ring fame,
And losing thee, still dwell upon thy name.
Oh! ever honour'd, ever valued! say
What verse can praise thee, or what work repay?
Yet Verse (in all we can) thy worth repays,
Nor trusts the tardy zeal of future days;—
Honours for thee thy Country shall prepare,
Thee in their hearts, the Good, the Brave shall bear:
To deeds like thine shall noblest chiefs aspire,
The Muse shall mourn thee, and the world admire.
In future times, when smit with glory's charms,
The untry'd youth first quits a father's arms;
"Oh be like him," the weeping sire shall say,
"Like Manners walk, who walk'd in honour's way;
In danger foremost, yet in death sedate,
Oh! be like him in all things, but his fate!"
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