’Twas first in trouble as in error pass’d,
Dark clouds and stormy cares whole years o’ercast,
But calm my setting day, and sunshine smiles at last:
My vices punish’d and my follies spent,
Not loth to die, but yet to-live content,
I rest:” - then casting on the grave his eye,
His friend compels a tear, and his own griefs a sigh.
Last on my list appears a match of love,
And one of virtue; - happy may it prove! -
Sir