AN
ELEGY
,
On
the
much
lamented
Death
of
NORTON
POWLETT
Esq
;
Who
departed
this
life
at
Petersfield
June
the
4th
1741.
From
Scenes
of
Woe
and
dismal
Shades
of
grief
,
The
pensive
Muse
at
length
attempts
relief
;
From
Sorrow's
boundless
Abyss
wou'd
arise
To
follow
noble
Powlett
to
the
Skies
,
Did
not
the
cry
of
those
he
left
behind
,
To
mournful
Accents
her
Sad
thoughts
confine
;
To
all
both
rich
and
Poor
his
worth
was
known
,
Whose
heavy
hearts
the
Publick
loss
bemoan
,
And
cry
,
the
good
,
the
Generous
Powlett's
gone
!
Who
while
he
liv'd
employ'd
his
bounteous
Store
To
Serve
his
Country
and
relieve
the
Poor
:
His
noble
Soul
design'd
for
liberty
,
Scorn'd
with
time
Serving
Wretches
to
comply
;
He
thirty
Years
together
bravely
Stood
Supporting
justice
and
his
Country's
good
.
This
glorious
truth
let
Petersfield
proclaim
,
When
he
to
be
elected
Burgess
came
,
But
nobly
lost
what
others
got
with
Shame
:
In
great
designs
his
useful
life
did
end
;
While
here
we
mourn
the
Patriot
and
the
Friend
;
Whose
liberal
hand
Supply'd
the
Poor
with
bread
,
Widows
and
Orphans
on
his
bounty
fed
.
No
Funeral
Pompt
he
needs
his
Fame
to
raise
,
Nor
mourning
Elegy
to
speak
his
praise
;
Nor
lofty
Monument
nor
flattering
Art
,
His
Memory
lives
in
every
honest
heart
,
Altho'
his
body
in
the
Tomb
must
lie
,
Yet
Powlett's
honour'd
Name
shall
never
die
,
But
live
with
Fame
to
late
Posterity
:
While
men
of
Virtue
here
his
Death
deplore
,
His
Soul's
triumphing
on
the
Heav'nly
Shore
,
Where
radient
Seraphims
their
voices
Strain
,
To
Celebrate
with
joy
his
glorious
reign
;
Where
he
,
in
Consort
,
shall
for
ever
Sing
,
Loud
Hallelujahs
to
their
Heavenly
King
;
Forever
fix'd
in
blisful
realms
of
light
,
Beyond
the
reach
of
Perjur'd
Villains
Spight
:
Then
let
us
cease
our
tears
and
bravely
try
Once
more
to
gain
our
Ancient
liberty
;
Rememb'ring
Still
that
Noble
Powlett's
Strife
To
save
our
freedom
ended
with
his
life
.