Christopher Marlowe

Thomas Dermody, in "The Pursuit of Patronage" Poems Moral and Descriptive (1800) 52-53.

Who led by sweet Simplicity aside
From pageants that we gaze at to deride,
Has not, while wilder'd in the bow'ry grove,
Oft sigh'd "Come, live with me, and be my love!"?
Yet oh! be love transform'd to deadly hate,
As freezes memory at MARLOW'S fate,
Disastrous Bard! by too much passion warm'd,
His fervid breast a menial beauty charm'd,
Nor, vers'd in arts deceitful woman knows,
Saw he the prospect of his future woes;
Vain the soft plaint that sordid breast to fire
With warmth refin'd, or elegant desire,
Vain his melodious magic to impart
Affections, foreign to th' unfeeling heart,
In guardless ecstacy's delicious glow
He sinks beneath a vassal murd'rers blow,
O'er his dread fate my kindred spirit stands
Smit with commutual wound, and Pity wrings her hands!
Ah! had some genial ray of bounty shone
On talents, that but lack'd it's aid alone,
Had some soft pennon of protection spread
Its eider plumage o'er that hapless head,
What emanations of the beauteous mind
Had deck'd thy works, the marvel of mankind,
Snatch'd from low-thoughted care thy stooping soul,
And plac'd thee radiant on Fame's deathless roll,
Where still anneal'd, thy own unequall'd strain
Shall, crown'd by Sensibility, remain!