 | Nature without art |  |
90
An ACROSTICK on the Death of a Pious MAID.
Mi dst the fair Bloom of Innocence and Youth,
A midst true Virtue, Piety, and Truth;
R egarding nothing, Death so aim'd his Dart,
'G ainst the fair Breast, it pierc'd the tender Heart.
A numerous Train of the celestial Powers,
R ejoycing, fly to watch her Soul, that towers
E v'n thro' the Skies; with Anthems of the Day,
T he Angels sing, while thro' the Orbs they fly.
A midst true Virtue, Piety, and Truth;
R egarding nothing, Death so aim'd his Dart,
'G ainst the fair Breast, it pierc'd the tender Heart.
A numerous Train of the celestial Powers,
R ejoycing, fly to watch her Soul, that towers
E v'n thro' the Skies; with Anthems of the Day,
T he Angels sing, while thro' the Orbs they fly.
H er Fame's still fresh, while she, with Joys above,
O n Jesus Christ feasts with eternal Love.
O all the Christian shin'd in her below;
D oubtless the Saint now shines in her also.
O n Jesus Christ feasts with eternal Love.
O all the Christian shin'd in her below;
D oubtless the Saint now shines in her also.
| Nature without art | |