From this low orb (our sinful seat) to Heaven;
While filial piety can please the ear,
Thy name will still occur, for ever dear:
This very spot, now humaniz'd, shall crave
From all a tear of pity on thy grave.
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O flow'r of flow'rs! which we shall see no more,
No kind returning Spring can thee restore:
Thy loss thy hapless countrymen deplore."
East side: