To the Memory of Mrs. Catherine Basset

T HE social and the moral Virtues here
Glow in their ashes, and survive the tear:
They live not in the monuments of art,
But stamp their breathing image on the heart,
There Memory, with Hope's enlivening ray,
Parts from the soul its vesture of decay;
Like that ascending spirit wings her flight
From earth and sorrow to the Realms of Light.
But we have claims upon the good and just:
Example is their prompter in the dust.
That hovering Angel of the relicks here
To honest Fame the mirrour shall endear.
No modern arts her graceful ease refin'd —
It was the current of a gifted mind.
Her gentle sway, to Love and Friendship known,
Was in that circle an imperial throne.
Prompt at the silent plea of the distress'd,
Her blessings were as mute at the request;
And, the maternal office to impart,
A vestal matron had a parent's heart: —
That aweful trust her feelings could ensure,
When Love's adopted children were — the Poor .
But of their pride these honours to disarm,
Religion was the wreath, and bound the charm;
With Christian hopes, Redemption for their guide,
As on the bosom of her God, she died.
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