With a Letter-Case

Conscious that she, whose hand these nets enwove, Honour’d the virtuous man, who once was thine, Permit the precious scriptures of his love Here in their folds to find a faithful shrine!

O! to the treasur’d sorrows of thy breast May future years no sad accession bring, But comfort, peace, and resignation blest, Fall on thy heart from Time’s unpausing wing,

Till late it shall present the final day, From mortal bonds that sets thee ever free, And calls to his thy willing soul away, Who once an Eden made this earth to thee.