Of these what numbers rest on every side!
Without one token left by grief or pride;
Their graves soon levell’d to the earth, and then
Will other hillocks rise o’er other men;
Daily the dead on the decay’d are thrust,
And generations follow, “dust to dust.”
Yes! there are real Mourners - I have seen
A fair, sad Girl, mild, suffering, and serene;
Attention (through the day) her duties claim’d,
And to be useful as resign’d she aim’d: