On The Death Of Dr. Lubbock

THE voice of public sorrow bursting forth,
Mixt with the widow's sighs, the orphans' tears,
Speaks the departure of a man of worth,
In realms of bliss to live immortal years.
Ah! were there aught in med'cine's balmy pow'r,
To mortals could prolong their fleeting breath,
When Heav'n decrees th' irrevocable hour,
Or from its aim repel the shaft of death:
Then had not he in practice skill'd to save,
From joys domestic immaturely torn,
Thus droop'd, a lingering victim, to the grave,
Nor left mankind a public loss to mourn.
Lord! how inscrutable thy ways to man!
Shall vain presumption thy decrees explore?
'Tis thine in mercy each event to plan,
Ours to submit in silence and adore!