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To DR. SHERLOCK, ON HIS DISCOURSE Con
CERNING DEATH. FORGIVE the muse, who, in unhallow'd strains, The saint one moment from his God detains. For sure whate'er you do, whate'er you are, 'Tis all but one good work, one constant prayer. Forgive her, and intreat that God to whom Thy favored vows with kind acceptance come, To raise her notes to that sublime degree, That suits a song of piety and thee.
Wond'rous good man! Whose labors may repel The force of sin, may stop the rage of hell : Who, like the baptist, from thy God was sent, The crying voice to bid the world repent.
Thee youth shall study ; and no more engage
Decrepid age shall read thee, and confess
Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow,
On its blest steps each age and sex may rise ; 'Tis like the ladder in the patriarch's dream,