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ON THE CHARACTER OF A VENERABLE FRIEND.
OH, could my humble page one feature save,
Of that dear friend who moulders in the grave,
Or through one soul a generous love diffuse
Of her pure virtues, her exalted views,
Or to one heart a thought of goodness give,
Then not in vain this humble page should live.
And Oh, that I, who saw her here below,
Who knew those deeds the world could never know,
Her inward peace, amid affliction's rage,
Her meek and graceful dignity of age,
Her quickly feeling heart, her moisten'd eye,
When pain was heard to mourn, and want to sigh,
Her tenderness for youth, her alms for woe,
Her hand in secret stretching to bestow,
Her liberal views, her self-instructed mind,
Active and strong, with seraph goodness join'd;
Who saw the path her lonely footstep trod,
Not chosen by the world, tho' mark'd by God;
Who saw her tending down the vale of time,
With thoughtful energy, with hope sublime:
