Written as an epitaph, these lines warmly celebrate Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset, a man admired in literary circles and at court. Pope presents him as the ideal patron of the arts and a sharp-eyed satirist who could mock pride and folly without cruelty. The speaker’s affection comes through clearly: Dorset’s severe verse hid a gentle nature, and his moral anger was always leavened with good humour. He could expose a vice so exactly that you sensed he pitied the sinner even while hating the sin. The poem also honours his political skill — someone who managed to satisfy both king and country yet kept his friendships intact and his own ease undisturbed. The closing lines widen the tribute, pointing to a noble family line where his graces were both inherited and passed on, imagining future patriots and poets carrying his light. The mood is one of fond remembrance and uplift, more celebratory than mournful, as if the speaker is quietly placing flowers on a friend’s memorial.
Epitaph. on Charles Earl of Dorset, in the Church of Withyam, in Sussex. — Summary
'His saltem accumulem donis, et fungar inani Munere!'
VIRG.
Dorset, the grace of courts, the Muses' pride, Patron of arts, and judge of nature, died. The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great, Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state: Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay, His anger moral, and his wisdom gay. Bless'd satirist! who touch'd the mean so true, As show'd vice had his hate and pity too. Blest courtier! who could king and country please, Yet sacred keep his friendships, and his ease. Blest peer! his great forefathers' every grace Reflecting, and reflected in his race; Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine, And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.