He gain’d from Heav’n (’twas all he wish’d) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose, 125
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repose,)
The bosom of his Father and his God.
MY KATE.
I.
She was not as pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow