is erected over him, with the
following inscription upon the pedestal;

H.S.E.

GEORGIUS STEPNEIUS, Armiger,

viz.

Ob Ingenii acumen,
Literarum Scientiam,
Morum Suavitatem,
Rerum Usum,
Virorum Amplissimorum Consuetudinem,
Linguae, Styli ac Vitae Elegantiam,
Praeclara Officia cum Britanniae; tum Europae Praestita,
Sua aetate multum celebratus,
Apud Posteros semper celebrandus;
Plurimas Legationes obiit
Ea Fide, Diligentia, & Felicitate,
Ut Augustissimorum Principum
GULIELMI & ANNAE
Spem in illo repositam
Nunquam sesellerit,
Haud raro superavit.
Post longum honorum Cursum
Brevi Temporis spatio confectum,
Cum Naturae parvae Fama satis vixerat,
Animam ad altiora aspirantem placide efflavit.

On the left hand.

G.S.

Ex Equestri Familia STEPNEIORUM,
De PENDEGRAST, in Comitatu
PEMBROCHIENSI ORIENDUS,
WESTMONASTERII natus est, A.D. 1663.
Electus in Collegium
Sancti PETRI WESTMONAST. A, 1676.
Sanctae TRINITATIS CANTAB. 1682.
Consiliariorum quibus Commercii
Cura commissa est 1697.
CHELSEIAE mortuus, & Comitante
Magna Procerum
Frequentia huc elatus, 1707.

On the right hand is a particular account of all his employments
abroad.

As a specimen of Mr. Stepney's poetry, we shall quote the following
lines on the Nature of Dreams,

At dead of night imperial reason sleeps,
And fancy with her train loose revels keeps:
Then airy phantoms a mixt scene display,
Of what we heard, or saw, or wish'd by day;
For memory those images retains
Which passion form'd, and still the strongest reigns,
Huntsmen renew the chase they lately run;
And generals fight again their battles won.
Spectres and furies haunt the murth'rers dreams;
Grants, or disgraces, are the courtiers themes.
The miser spies a thief, or some new hoard,
The cit's a knight, the sycophant a lord.
Thus fancy's in the wild distraction lost
With what we most abhor, or covet most.
But of all passions that our dreams controul,
Love prints the deepest image in the soul;
For vigorous fancy, and warm blood dispense
Pleasures so lively, that they rival sense.
Such are the transports of a willing maid,
Not yet by time and place to act betray'd.
Whom spies, or some faint virtue force to fly
That scene of joy, which yet she dies to try.
'Till fancy bawds, and by mysterious charms
Brings the dear object to her longing arms;
Unguarded