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On a Mother that Dyed for Grief of the Death of her only Daughter.

Unto this Grave let Unkind Parents turn,
And Touch these Loving Ashes in this Urn,
All the Dislike Parents in Children find,
Will Vanish quite, and be of nature Kind:
For in this Tomb such pure Love Buried lies,
None Perfect is, but what from hence doth Rise.