AN EPITAPH.

Here she lies, whose spotless fame

Invites a stone to learn her name:

The rigid Spartan that denied

An epitaph to all that died,

Unless for war, in charity

Would here vouchsafe an elegy.

She died a wife, but yet her mind,

Beyond virginity refined,

From lawless fire remain'd as free

As now from heat her ashes be:

Keep well this pawn, thou marble chest;

Till it be call'd for, let it rest;

For while this jewel here is set,

The grave is like a cabinet.

Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 1 · 第 133 / 326 题