Classic Poem

When princes fall, or some sam'd belle decays,
Poetic fiction creeps in mournful lays,
Thro' all the mazes of Arcadian song,
To cull some blossom from the fabl'd throng;
Or spurning earth with daring pinion flies
To pluck bright virtues from the star-set skies.

Such flow'ry paths let flatt'ring bards pursue,
Or sighing lovers picture to their view.
A friend sincere laments that early doom,
Which sent you blooming to the dreary tomb.
No heav'n-sought virtues glitter in this lay,
A mortal you — but of the purest clay.
Tho' deck'd by nature with external grace
Of taper limbs, and nicely formed face,
Your mind, eclips'd all beauty cou'd bestow,
In friendship cordial, as 'twas touch'd by woe;
Grave in religion, to its precepts true,
Firm in your tenets, but no bigot you:
With knowledge fraught above thy tender age,
Thy wit cou'd charm us, and thy mirth engagi;
Wise with the sage — among the sprightly gay,
To rule, a stranger — willing to obey.
By all belov'd thro' life's extensive sphere,
By all regretted on the murky bier.