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[p. 37] written by Mrs. Rowson on the death of a beloved pupil, Mrs. Lydia Parsons, aged 21 years.

Wealth and youth and beauty join'd
     Cannot sinking nature save;
Lovely form, or lovelier mind,
     Shield the owner from the grave.

Death, remorseless tyrant, stands
     Eager for an early prey;
Breaking nature's tenderest bands,
     Bears his destined prize away.

Lovely form, and lovelier mind,
     Fain we would have kept thee here,
To fill the tender parts assigned,
     And ornament this nether sphere.

New emotions warm'd thy heart,
     Love and joy lead on each day;
The king of terrors hurls his dart,
     The beauteous vision fleets away.

Triumph not thou monster fell,
     Thou canst not her soul retain;
Victorious over death, and hell,
     It shall with its Creator reign.

Though within yon mould'ring tomb,
     Rests that frame, so sweet, so fair;
'Twill rise with renovated bloom,
     To meet its Saviour in the air.

Weeping mourners, dry your tears,
     From that drear mansion raise your eyes;
By faith, behold! the saint appears,
     Ascending to her native skies.

Rob'd in light, in realms of day,
     Safe from sorrow, safe from pain,
Think you hear her spirit say,
     “Do not wish me back again.”

S. R.

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