 | The Visionary |  |
182
EPITAPH.
[In ripened age and ripened Virtues too]
1
In ripened age and ripened Virtues too,We saw thee sink into thine honoured grave,
While our dimmed eyes were filled with tearful dew
Because we might not succour thee nor save.
2
Thou ever good, and kind, and pure and true!—Yet better—purer—Ah! and happier now—
Forgive that we thy grave with cypress strew,
While Angels crown with deathless palms thy brow!
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