Hannah More

Anonymous, "An humble Invocation to Miss Hannah More" Gentleman's Magazine 49 (July 1779) 367.

Oh virgin poetess, asswage thy grief,
And let thy tuneful verse yield some relief,
Tho' Garrick's wit no more shall glad thy heart,
He's gone, my fair, to act a higher part!
Then rise, sweet Philomela, chant thy lays,
Collect the laurels, and prepare the bays,
To crown his tomb, and with thy Muse commend,
The virtues and the graces of thy friend!
May thy harmonious strains immortal raise
A lasting monument to Garrick's praise!
Garrick! who oft has charm'd the mingled throng!
Of grave and gay, of learned, fair, and young!
Whether in Tragedy's majestic mien,
Or sprightly Comedy's more pleasing scene;
He, Proteus like, was perfect in each part;
Delighted every eye, and every heart!
Such unaffected dignity and ease,
Such sparkling wit, and various powers to please;
Demand a style more lofty than her verse,
Whose maiden tears bedew'd his passing hearse,
As in funereal pomp, by numbers mourn'd,
It bore his dust to be with King's inurn'd!
Too weak his matchless talents to explore,
She humbly thus requests the task of — Moore.