To the Memory of a Young Lady

Endow'd with all that Fortune cou'd bestow; With brilliancy of wit and beauty's glow, Francisca, rising to her fifteenth year, Stood mid the virgin train without a peer: Her conscious bosom throbb'd to virtue warm, While diffidence still heighten'd ev'ry charm: But Heav'n's decree forbad this beauty's queen To act her part thro' beauty's short-liv'd scene: A gradual illness on her figure prey'd, And slowly, slowly sunk the fading maid: Torn from each wish to which her youth aspir'd, Unfearing—uncomplaining—she expir'd: Thus some faint lily to its mother-ground In silence falls—while spring is blooming round.