LETTER LI.
Myrato Mrs.Holmes.
Boston.
THE curtain is dropped, and the scene of life is forever closed—The Lovely Harriot is no More.
SHE is fit to appear in Heaven, for her life was a scene of purity and innocence—If there is any consolation to be felt by a survivour, it is in the reflection of the amiable qualities of the deceased. My heart shall not cease to cherish her idea, for she was beautiful without artifice, and virtuous without affectation.
See! there all pale and dead she lies;Forever flow my streaming eyes—There dwelt the fairest—loveliest mind,Faith, sweetness, wit together join’d.Dwelt faith and wit and sweetness there?O, view the change, and drop a tear.
See! there all pale and dead she lies;Forever flow my streaming eyes—There dwelt the fairest—loveliest mind,Faith, sweetness, wit together join’d.Dwelt faith and wit and sweetness there?O, view the change, and drop a tear.
See! there all pale and dead she lies;Forever flow my streaming eyes—There dwelt the fairest—loveliest mind,Faith, sweetness, wit together join’d.Dwelt faith and wit and sweetness there?O, view the change, and drop a tear.
See! there all pale and dead she lies;
Forever flow my streaming eyes—
There dwelt the fairest—loveliest mind,
Faith, sweetness, wit together join’d.
Dwelt faith and wit and sweetness there?
O, view the change, and drop a tear.
MY brother is exceedingly agitated—He will never support this disastrous stroke—Nothing can attract his attention—nothing allay his grief—but it is the affliction of reason and not of weakness—God grant that it prove not fatal to him.
Adieu!—Adieu!
Adieu!—Adieu!
Adieu!—Adieu!
Adieu!—Adieu!