Classic Poem

AN EPITHET IN MY DEAR MOTHER'S CHARACTER ,

A NGELS ; — catch the hallow'd word
By an Angel's voice conferr'd;
Wreath appropriate, and correct;
Homage by no flatteries deck'd!
" Unpresuming! " never yet
So deserv'd an epithet;
With an intellect allied,
That would fill a Saint with pride,
And with such unspotted worth,
As accompanies the birth
Of elected Spirits here,
Born to a celestial sphere,
In their pilgrimage resign'd,
And with Christian pains refin'd.
Blush, ye Pharisees — and hide
All the symbols of your pride!
You, that still yourselves prefer,
Catch the mantle dropt by her!
Unobtrusive, and retir'd,
She could blush to be admir'd;
Yet, with energies unseen,
Was a perfect heroine:
Her ambition's golden prize,
When the tear of bliss could rise,
At a bounty's ample scope,
That surpass'd the wings of Hope;
Never seen — but in the gift,
Which the desolate could lift;
Never heard — but in the voice
That could make the heart rejoice;
By afflictions undismay'd,
And in blessings undecay'd;
Not a moment unemploy'd,
Not a mercy unenjoy'd,
Or to self-indulgence given,
Envy'd her the path to Heaven.
Yet, from abject thoughts exempt,
She was great — in Pride's contempt;
All the virtues meekly bore,
And uplifted them, the more.
Blest Humility , appear!
Vindicate thy honours here!
Spirit of the wise and good!
Thou art Pride , if understood.