Classic Poem

MADAM ,

I F Sighs like mine, which from my Soul do flow,
Or faithful Friendship, can divide your Woe!
If Partners in Affliction, give Relief;
Then, sure, my Tears may mitigate your Grief:
This Tribute to your Sorrow's justly due,
Not for your Sake alone, but Mirabella's too.

For she, with wondrous Gifts of Mind was blest,
And gen'rous Virtues center'd in her Breast:
In her did Beauty, Youth, and Wit combine,
And Piety made each of these divine:
Good-humour'd, Humble, Prudent, Kind, and True,
Were Graces which she daily learn't from You:
Your fair Example, taught her how to move;
And she, with Care, those Maxims did improve.

But death! who spares not Youth, nor Innocence;
Death! against whom there can be no Defence,
Has snatch'd the charming Mirabella hence.
Calm, as she liv'd, so she resign'd her Breath,
And lovely seem'd, ev'n in the Pangs of Death.
Celestial Faith, her welcome Change did bless,
And radiant Smiles, declar'd her Happiness.

Then bright Sulpitia, cease your pious Tears!
The Nymph you mourn for, now your Kindness fears;
She dreads lest Sorrow should your Health impair,
And begs, you would these cruel Sighs forbear.
Ah! do not, by your Grief, her Bliss suspend,
And torture us, that on your Fate depend:
Lest she thus mov'd regret the Joys above;
And we, by Sympathy, your Martyrs prove.