On The Death Of The Rev. Mr. Suckling

ALAS! what mean those sudden plaints of woe,
That strike my startled ear with accents wild?
Relentless Death has aim'd th' unerring blow,
Where bright to view Life's flattering prospects smil'd.
Dear widow'd mourner, cease thy tender sighs,
For thy loved partner early call'd away,
Above the limits of yon concave skies,
His soul exults in everlasting day.
Long shall his worth to every friend be dear,
The pious son, the husband, father kind;
Benevolent in thought, in words sincere,
His were the virtues of an honest mind.
Tho' doom'd untimely to an orphan state,
Thy blooming babes shall be th' Almighty's care;
His guardian hand shall guide their future fate,
And save their opening minds from Folly's snare.
And ye, respected pair, in life's decline,
While o'er a Son's sad tomb your sorrow flows,
Accept this grateful, tributary line,
From one whose heart participates your woes.
My soul's dear friend! whose fond maternal breast
This keen, afflictive stroke must deeply feel;
Oh! could my Muse but charm thy griefs to rest,
Could Friendship's soothing balm thy anguish heal!
But lo! Religion comes, whose angel voice
Shall o'er thy mind sweet consolation pour;
She bids each mourner's heart with hope rejoice,
To meet in realms where death divides no more.