LINESTO THE MEMORY OF MRS. B——Ah, stranger! if thy pilgrim footsteps love,By meditation led, to wander here,A suff’ring husband may thy pity move,Who weeps the loss of all his soul holds dear!Cold as this mourning marble is that heart,Which Virtue warm’d with pure and gen’rous heat,Which to each checquer’d scene could joy impart,Nor ceas’d to love until it ceas’d to beat.Yet, gentle spirit! o’er thine early graveShall Consolation, like a seraph, prove,When Sickness clos’d thy faultless life, she gaveAnother angel to the realms above!
Ah, stranger! if thy pilgrim footsteps love,By meditation led, to wander here,A suff’ring husband may thy pity move,Who weeps the loss of all his soul holds dear!Cold as this mourning marble is that heart,Which Virtue warm’d with pure and gen’rous heat,Which to each checquer’d scene could joy impart,Nor ceas’d to love until it ceas’d to beat.Yet, gentle spirit! o’er thine early graveShall Consolation, like a seraph, prove,When Sickness clos’d thy faultless life, she gaveAnother angel to the realms above!