AN
ODE
TO
Dr.
HANNES
,
An
Eminent
PHYSICIAN
and
POET
.
I.
WHILE
flying
o'er
the
Golden
Strings
,
You
gently
wake
the
tuneful
Lyre
;
Or
tender
,
as
when
ORPHEUS
sings
,
With
softer
Sounds
the
Harp
inspire
:
Sad
fleeting
Ghosts
with
Art
constrain
Back
to
a
kinder
Life
again
.
II
.
Whether
,
in
graceful
Lays
you
shine
,
And
Verse
your
easy
Hours
employ
;
Or
give
the
Soul
,
her
mouldring
Shrine
Decay'd
,
a
Fairer
to
enjoy
:
The
Body
,
cold
in
Death
,
explore
Thy
Skill
could
only
,
not
restore
.
III
.
Awhile
thy
learned
Toil
decline
,
Nor
anxious
more
,
in
smiles
allow
The
Circling
Glass
,
the
Generous
Wine
,
T'unbend
,
and
smooth
thy
chearful
Brow
:
Nor
longer
to
thy
self
severe
,
In
the
rich
Draught
forget
thy
care
.
IV
.
Now
with
thy
Monarch's
Glory
fir'd
,
Let
Great
NASSAU
thy
Thirst
inflame
;
Or
by
his
MOUNTAGUE
The
late
Earl
of
Halifax
.
inspir'd
,
Record
the
Patriot's
faithful
Name
:
By
whose
wise
Arts
,
and
watchful
Pains
,
HE
Rules
in
Peace
,
in
Safety
Reigns
!
V.
At
length
thy
mournful
Task
forbear
,
From
sad'ning
Thoughts
some
respite
find
;
And
while
we
bless
thy
pious
Care
,
Be
to
thy
self
,
in
pity
,
kind
:
Inspir'd
with
your
own
Blessings
,
live
;
Nor
want
Your
self
that
Bloom
you
give
.
VI
.
In
vain
the
Blood's
tumultuous
Tide
,
And
circling
Stream
your
Hand
restrains
;
Taught
o'er
the
Pulses
to
preside
,
And
well
explore
the
bubbling
Veins
:
That
with
the
Fever's
swelling
Heat
Glow
more
inflam'd
,
more
fiercely
beat
.
VII
.
In
vain
you
try
each
Chymic
Power
,
Trace
to
its
Spring
the
Sanguine
Wave
;
And
kindly
search
each
healing
Flower
For
Helps
to
guard
us
from
the
Grave
:
In
endless
Bloom
to
bid
us
live
,
Which
THOU
,
nor
THEY
(
Alas
)
can
give
.
VIII
.
One
certain
Fate
by
Heaven
decreed
,
In
spite
of
Thee
we
all
must
try
;
When
from
her
bursting
Prison
freed
,
The
mounting
Soul
shall
claim
the
Sky
:
Our
Sons
must
once
lament
our
Doom
,
And
shed
their
Sorrows
round
our
Tomb
.
IX
.
Thou
too
shalt
with
pale
Horror
see
The
Fabled
Ghosts
which
glare
below
,
Which
to
the
Shades
,
restrain'd
by
Thee
,
In
thinner
Shoals
,
descending
,
flow
:
And
Death
,
whose
Power
you
now
defy
,
Shall
boast
,
her
Conqueror
can
Die
.
X.
His
Life
alone
is
greatly
blest
,
Whom
no
intruding
Griefs
annoy
;
Who
smiles
each
happy
Day
,
possest
Of
chearful
Ease
,
and
harmless
Joy
:
Nor
sadly
soothing
his
own
Cares
,
Augments
himself
the
Weight
he
bears
.
XI
.
Pleas'd
,
with
a
few
selected
Friends
,
He
views
each
smiling
Evening
close
;
While
each
succeeding
Morn
ascends
,
Charg'd
with
Delights
,
unmark'd
with
Woes
:
In
Pleasures
innocently
gay
,
Wears
the
Remains
of
Life
away
.