Lord Chesterfield

Michael Clancy, "On the Right Honourable the Earl of Chesterfield's Recovery from a late Indisposition" Public Advertiser (19 October 1767).

In Noon-day Heat, a Pilgrim spread
His Limbs to Warmth, and chaf'd his Head:
Enjoy'd the Sun, whose powerful Ray
Enliven'd once Promethean Clay:
Sudden he finds a Shade of Light:
Soon feels a dreary Damp, and sees
The Gloom advancing by Degrees;
With Darkness, thickening as he gaz'd:
Convulsive Pangs his Soul affright
With Terrors of eternal Night:
No Hope that Time may Light restore;
And Noon-day was to be no more.

Thus when, of late, pale Sickness spread
A dismal Mist round STANHOPE'S Head:
That Head, whose Prudence States rever'd,
And ev'ry Foe to Virture fear'd:
A threat'ning Cloud hung o'er those Eyes
Whose Vigor pierc'd thro' false Disguise;
That tender Heart began to grieve
Whose chiefest Joy was to relieve;
And faintly thrill'd that vital Flood
Which flow'd for universal Good.

Swift FAME the dismal Tidings bore,
And ALBION moan'd from Shore to Shore;
Her Genius droop'd. In mournful Lays
IERNE'S Sons attempt his Praise:
O best of Men! whose Conduct sage
Appeas'd Rebellion's horrid Rage;
Full right he held the guiding Helm;
Our Lives he sav'd who sav'd the Realm.
Propitious Heaven your Aid bestow
On Him whose Heart would Pity show!

Eclipses are the Sun's Disease,
When the dark Moon obstructs his Rays:
As She goes off, He shines again,
And re-assumes his splendid Reign.

That dreadful Cloud is blown away,
Which darken'd STANHOPE'S lovely Day:
On ev'ry Face a chearful Smile
Shews Joy renew'd thro' Britain's Isle:
To Mirth IERNE'S Harp resounds;
To Mirth each vocal Hill rebounds.
Her rural Pipes his Safety greet
In sprightly Airs, and Numbers sweet.
Swift fly loud Notes from silver Strings,
And ev'ry Muse in Concert sings.