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TO THE MEMORY OF A FAIR YOUNG LADY,
  
  
  
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82

TO THE MEMORY OF A FAIR YOUNG LADY,

1697.

When black with shades this mourning vault appears,
And the relenting marble flows with tears;
Think then what griefs a parent's bosom wound,
Whose fatal loss enrich'd this hallow'd ground.
Strew lilies here, and myrtle wreaths prepare,
To crown the fading triumphs of the fair:
Here blooming youth and charming beauties lie,
Till Earth resigns them to their native sky;
Like china laid for ages to refine,
And make her body, like the soul, divine.
Unmingled may the fragrant dust remain,
No common earth the sacred sweets prophane;
But let her urn preserve its virgin store,
Chaste and unsully'd as she liv'd before!