While o’er the sod each kindred virtue weeps.
Soon too Selina did thy early worth
The blooming beauty heaven its favourite gave,
Seek the dark confines of the chilling earth,
And join our much lov’d parents in the grave:
Ye oft I meet, beloved shades,
When wandering through the moonlight glades;
Pale shadows shoot athwart my view,
I start, I sigh, and think of you,
And oft my wilder’d fancy brings