While you, my friend, with tearful eye,
These soft elegiac lines read o'er,
And while you heave the tender sigh
For lov'd Amanda now no more.
This lesson from her tear-dew'd urn,
Where conscious worth, where virtue bleeds,
This lesson from Amanda learn,--
That death, nor worth, nor virtue heeds.
That he alike his ruthless reign
Does o'er each age, each sex, extend,
That he ne'er heeds the lover's pain,
Ne'er heeds the anguish of a friend.
But in the height of Beauty's bloom,
Each dear connexion of the heart,
He points them to the gloomy tomb,
He bids them--and they must depart.