亲爱的上帝的影子，他吸引了模仿的场景，用不可抗拒的力量吸引了注意力;他那神奇的艺术，他那迷人的风度，给短暂的时光带来了炽热的喜悦!接受这哀婉的诗句，这哀鸣的叹息，这忠实的妈妈不愿流下的眼泪;神圣的眼泪，从倒影的眼睛里，滴在神圣的死者的骨灰上。被坟墓所爱，被年轻人追求，在社交上享受着极大的幸福;所有的心都不听你的口舌，你的口舌让人嫉妒。谁能像你那样，画出灵魂的狂乱，用宽厚的艺术唤醒麻木的耳朵?用怜悯的哀歌来抚慰美好的感觉，或抚慰破碎的心的悲伤?谁能忘记你那锐利的眼睛，那甜美迷人的微笑，那充满激情的目光?那清晰而深沉的低语，那令人信服的叹息，那大自然的语言所表达的深情的泪水? Rich in each treasure bounteous Heaven could lend, For private worth distinguish'd and approv'd, The pride of WISDOM,VIRTUE's darling friend, By MANSFIELD honor'dand by CAMDEN lov'd! The courtier's cringe, the flatt'rer's abject smile, The subtle arts of well-dissembled praise, Thy soul abhorr'd;above the gloss of guile, Truth lead thy steps, and Friendship crown'd thy days. Oft in thy HAMPTON's dark embow'ring shade The POET's hand shall sweep the trembling string; While the proud tribute §to thy mem'ry paid, The voice of GENIUS on the gale shall fling. Yes, SHERIDAN! thy soft melodious verse Still vibrates on a nation's polish'd ear; Fondly it hover'd o'er the sable hearse, Hush'd the loud plaint, and triumph'd in a tear. In life united by congenial minds, Dear to the MUSE, to sacred friendship true; Around her darling's urn a wreath SHE binds, A deathless wreathimmortaliz'd by YOU! But say, dear shade, is kindred mem'ry flown? Has widow'd love at length forgot to weep? That no kind verse, or monumental stone, Marks the lone spot where thy cold relics sleep! Dear to a nation, grateful to thy muse, That nation's tears upon thy grave shall flow, For who the gentle tribute can refuse, Which thy fine feeling gave to fancied woe? Thou who, by many an anxious toilsome hour, Reap'd the bright harvest of luxuriant Fame, Who snatch'd from dark oblivion's barb'rous pow'r The radiant glories of a SHAKSPERE's name! Rembrance oft shall paint the mournful scene Where the slow fun'ral spread its length'ning gloom, Where the deep murmur, and dejected mien, In artless sorrow linger'd round thy tomb. And tho' no laurel'd bust, or labour'd line, Shall bid the passing stranger stay to weep; Thy SHAKSPERE's hand shall point the hallow'd shrine, And Britain's genius with thy ashes sleep. Then rest in peace, O ever sacred shade! Your kindred souls exulting FAME shall join; And the same wreath thy hand for SHAKSPERE made, Gemm'd with her tears about THY GRAVE SHALL TWINE.