Epitaph on Mrs. El:Y, An
Underneath this stone there lies
More of beauty than are eyes;
Or to read that she is gone,
Or alive to gaze upon.
She in so much fairness clad,
To each grace a virtue had;
All her goodness cannot be
Cut in marble. Memory
Would be useless, ere we tell
In a stone her worth. Farewell!
More of beauty than are eyes;
Or to read that she is gone,
Or alive to gaze upon.
She in so much fairness clad,
To each grace a virtue had;
All her goodness cannot be
Cut in marble. Memory
Would be useless, ere we tell
In a stone her worth. Farewell!
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