Neglect me when I die!”
A monument of chaste and simple design attracted his attention. It was to the memory of a gentle spirit, whom he mourned with a brother's love. Four lines were all that had been thought essential to say; but they were sufficiently expressive.
Father! thy name we bless,
Thy providence adore.
Earth has a mortal less,
Heaven has an angel more!
The “Giver of every good and perfect gift” had taken her daughter before she knew sin or sorrow. Her epitaph ran thus:—
Oh! happy they who call'd to rest
Ere sorrow fades their bloom,
Awhile a blessing are—and bless'd—