Well may you sit within, and, fond of grief,
Look in each other’s face, and melt in tears.
Well may you shun all counsel, all relief.
Oh she was great in mind, tho’ young in years!
Chang’d is that lovely countenance, which shed
Light when she spoke; and kindled sweet surprise,
As o’er her frame each warm emotion spread,
Play’d round her lips, and sparkled in her eyes.
Those lips so pure, that mov’d but to persuade,
Still to the last enliven’d and endear’d.
Those eyes at once her secret soul convey’d,
And ever beam’d delight when you appear’d.
Yet has she fled the life of bliss below,
That youthful Hope in bright perspective drew?
False were the tints! false as the feverish glow
That o’er her burning cheek Distemper threw!
And now in joy she dwells, in glory moves!
(Glory and joy reserv’d for you to share.)
Far, far more blest in blessing those she loves,
Than they, alas! unconscious of her care.
On the death of a younger sister.