I must not praise the living. But I may
Implore of Him who every blessing gives,
Long, long to spare him to us. Yes, I pray,
My heavenly Father! that the trying day
Of separation may not quickly come;
Take not my few remaining friends away;
Hide not my loved ones in the envious tomb,
Unless it please thee first to take my spirit home.
XXXVII.
They told me she look’d beautiful in death,