University of Virginia Library

ODE TO LAURA.

Softly sighing will I mourn
The blossom that was nipp'd in spring,
Hang a chaplet on the urn
Of lovely Virtue's blossoming.
O'er her no praise shall marble bear,
Those pageants vain of solemn pride;
Though all on earth I held most dear,
Forsook me when my Laura died.

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Oh! 'tis in vain—I'll cease to try
To write in characters my sorrow deep,
For could I write a river dry,
My eyes another sea could weep.
But words can never show the worth
Of her who was too rich to stay,
Mourning on a joyless earth,
When fit for everlasting day.