Classic Poem

In dismal Weeds you still appear,
  Melissa , tho' the Time is out,
And vow, your Mourning ne'er shall end:
  Excess of Grief , I make no Doubt,
For our departed, loving Friend ;
Yet, since you have not shed a Tear ,
 There are some People who pretend,
It cant be Sorrow for your Dear .
 'Tis true, this Dress becomes you more,
 Than any Thing you ever wore.