Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such,We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much;Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,And to party gave up what was meant for mankind;Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throatTo persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote.Who too deep for his hearers still went on refining,And thought of convincing while they thought of dining:Though equal to all things, for all things unfit;Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit.
Man only, rash, refined, presumptuous Man Starts from his rank, and mars Creation's plan! Born the free heir of nature's wide domain, To art's strict limits bounds his narrow'd reign; Resigns his native rights for meaner things, For Faith and Fetters, Laws and Priests and Kings.
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