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XIV.

On EDMUND D. of BUCKINGHAM,

Who died in the Nineteenth Year of his Age, 1735.

F modeft Youth, with cool Reflection crown'd,

IF

And ev'ry op'ning Virtue blooming round, Could fave a Parent's jufteft Pride from fate, Or add one Patriot to a finking ftate: This weeping marble had not ask'd thy Tear, Or fadly told, how many Hopes lie here! The living Virtue now had fhone approv'd, The Senate heard him, and his Country lov'd. Yet fofter Honours, and lefs noify Fame Attend the shade of gentle BUCKINGHAM: In whom a Race, for Courage fam'd and Art, Ends in the milder Merit of the Heart; And Chiefs or Sages long to Britain giv'n, Pays the laft Tribute of a Saint to Heav'n.

XV.

For One who would not be buried in

Westminster-Abbey.

EROES, and KINGS! distance keep:

HER

your

peace let one poor Poet fleep, Who never flatter'd Folks like you;

Let Horace blush, and Virgil too.

U

Another, on the fame.

NDER this Marble, or under this Sill,

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Or under this Turf, or e'en what they will; Whatever an Heir, or a Friend in his stead,

Or

any good creature fhall lay o'er my head, Lies one who ne'er car'd, and ftill cares not a pin What they faid, or may fay of the mortal within : But, who living and dying, ferene still and free, Trufts in Gop, that as well as he was, he fhall be.

MEMOIRS

Of the Extraordinary

Life, Works, and Discoveries

OF

MARTINUS SCRIBLERUS.

INTRODUCTION

To the READER.

N the Reign of Queen ANNE, (which, notwithstanding those happy Times which fucceeded, every Englishman may remember) thou may'ft poffibly, gentle Reader, have seen a certain venerable Perfon who frequented the outfide of the Palace of St. James's, and who, by the Gravity of his Deportment and Habit, was generally taken for a decay'd Gentleman of Spain. His ftature was tall, his vifage long, his complexion olive, his brows were black and even, his eyes hollow yet piercing, his nofe inclin'd to aquiline, his beard neglected and mix'd with grey: All this contributed to fpread a folemn Melancholy over his countenance. Pythagoras was not more filent, Pyrrho more motionlefs, nor Zeno more auftere. His Wig was as black and fmooth as the plumes of a Raven, and hung as ftrait as the hair of a River God rifing from the water. His Cloak fo compleatly covered his whole person, that whether or no he had any other cloaths (much less any linnen) under it, I fhall not fay; but his fword appear'd a full yard behind him, and his manner of

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