A Collection of Original Poems | ||
An Epitaph upon a young Lady.
Nymph, over thee, fair, chaste and young,Each bosom heaves a sigh;
Applauses flow from ev'ry tongue,
And tears from ev'ry eye.
Still lives, and ever shall thy fame,
Only thy beauty dy'd;
Envy has nothing to proclaim,
Nor flattery to hide.
A Collection of Original Poems | ||