&nbspI too a sister had! too cruel Death!
       &nbsp       &nbspHow sad Remembrance bids my bosom heave!
       &nbspTranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's breath;
       &nbsp       &nbspMeek were her manners as a vernal Eve.
       &nbspKnowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind,
       &nbsp       &nbspGave her the treasure of a lowly breast,
       &nbspAnd Wit to venom'd Malice oft assign'd,
       &nbsp       &nbspDwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest.
       &nbspCease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart;
       &nbsp       &nbspNor on my soul her love to me impress!
       &nbspFor oh I mourn in anguish—and my heart
       &nbsp       &nbspFeels the keen pang, th' unutterable distress.
Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease,
For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace!