Scarce did a flower adorn the spot around,
But her hand planted in its proper place;
No fonder lover of those sweets were found,
While she their beauties in her mind could trace.
Three days before her sufferings were o’er,
She craved assistance to her favourite spot;
And said my roses I shall see no more,
And when I’m absent they will be forgot.
But for her sake a faithful servant toil,
To free the flowers from weeds from morn till night;
Or bring fresh water to the thirsty soil,
To that lov’d spot that gave her oft delight.
Anticipation to the panting heart,
Convey’d the dread decree of fate’s ordain;
To say she must from earthly scenes depart,
And not to them for ever turn again.
Meekness thro’ life had marked her for her care,
While resignation claim’d her for her own;
Sometimes her mind wou’d cheerful still appear,
And strive to stifle pain’s afflicting groan.
Oh God! she cried, thy mercy let me crave,
Till life’s short span is taken quite away;
Then may I rest at peace within the grave,
To wait thy summons for the awful day.
Scarce had religion brought sweet hope to aid
The virtuous victim in the pangs of death;
When soft a guardian angel gently said,
You’ll dwell with me when time extinguish breath.
A few short struggles and the scene was o’er,
Death with his victim flew above the skies;
I shall thro’ life her absence oft deplore,
Till recollection from my memory flies.
The humble cottagers their Mistress bore,
To her cold home each face bedew’d with tears;
She to her mansion to return no more,
For death has silenc’d all her hopes and fears.
Oh! had you seen my good and worthy sire,
In sorrow’s garment his last duty pay;
To her whose virtues did esteem acquire,
Or ease the troubles of a luckless day.