Ely Bates

Ask not who ended here his span

His name, reproach and praise to man

Did no great deeds adorn his course.

No deeds to swell the Poet's verse.

To courts and camps alike unknown

To Senates or the bustling town

Retirement claim'd him for her own

Warn'd by Heaven's kind tho secret voice.

His steps averse from pomp and noise.

To peaceful solitudes he born

On contemplation wtill intent

Each topic drew his active mine

Nor least the world he left behind:

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