The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | ||
347
EPITAPHS ON A YOUNG LADY.
I.
Called from life's banquet ere one rose grew paleWhich love had wreathed around thy youthful brow,
Death summoned thee to joys that never fail,
And made thee thus the angel thou art now.
II.
Gifted with all that life could bless,Thine early death we must deplore;
For earth hath now one saint the less,
Though heaven hath gained one angel more.
The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | ||