Original Poems and Translations | ||
I. On a very good WOMAN.
Could marble know what virtue's buried here,This monument would scarce refuse a tear,
But mourn so early snatch'd from mortal life,
The tenderest parent, and the dearest wife,
Bless'd with sweet temper, and of soul so even,
She seem'd a copy of the saints in heaven.
Original Poems and Translations | ||