 | Freedom's Offering, |  |
9
An Epitaph.
Let no fond parent shed a tear upon my head,Nor sister on my grave, sweet flowers spread,
Nor loving brother mourn when I depart,
But for me breathe a prayer with fervent heart.
No! life is but a transitory gleam,
And we but bask within a sunny beam;
But pause alas! 'tis but a vale of tears—
A day of human sorrow, toil, and cares.
Then why should I within this vale delay,
When heavenly spirits call my soul away?
And why should parents—friends my demise mourn?
'Tis but the fate of all of woman born.
Let tears for pious prayers be quick exchanged;
Let wisdom, guide the mind that's most deranged,
With resignation to the makers will,
He died for thee, and he will love thee still.
| Freedom's Offering, | |