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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391543" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines To The Memory Of A Very Amiable Young Lady, Who Died At The Age Of Eighteen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">AT length, departed saint! thy pangs are o'er,<br>And earthly suff'ring shall be thine no more;<br>Like some young rose-bud, blighted in its May,<br>Thy virtues bloom'd, to wither soon away!<br>Around thy grave let Spring her off'ring strew,<br>Her drooping lilies, bath'd in fragrant dew;<br>Emblems of thee, thou sweet, lamented maid;<br>Thou spotless lily, doom'd so soon to fade!<br>Angelic sweetness, piety refin'd,<br>Within thy gentle bosom were enshrin'd.<br>Thy heav'nly mind display'd, in early youth,<br>The fairest blossom of celestial truth—<br>How oft, sweet girl! thy soothing tears would flow,<br>In sacred sympathy with others' woe!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet Patience taught thee to sustain thy own,<br>Suppress the sigh, and hush the rising moan;<br>'Midst anguish, still to wear the placid mien,<br>Mild Resignation's smile and look serene!<br>Ye who have watch'd beside the mournful bed,<br>And rais'd, with anxious care, the languid head;<br>Gaz'd on the pallid cheek, the faded eye,<br>And heard the breathings of the parting sigh;<br>Ye who have mourn'd a sister's early doom,<br>Or bent in sorrow o'er a daughter's tomb;<br>Oh! weep for those, who sadly now deplore,<br>The fate, the virtues, of the maid no more.<br>What pow'r can sooth a tender parent's grief,<br>Or bring the friend's, the sister's woes relief?<br>Religion pure, ineffably divine,<br>Angel of peace, that heav'nly pow'r is thine,<br>Though spreading glooms the beam of joy may shroud,<br>Still, still thy rainbow brightens in the cloud;<br>Dispels the mist of error and of night,<br>Till fairer prospects open on the sight;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blissful regions of eternal rest,<br>The calm, Elysian mansions of the blest.<br>—There too, each pang, each earthly suff'ring o'er,<br>Her gentle spirit soars, to weep no more!<br>'Mourn not for me,' the happy seraph cries,<br>'Exulting, lo! I gain my native skies!<br>A golden harp enraptur'd now I bear,<br>A wreath of bright, unfading palms I wear!<br>Mourn not for me, escap'd from ev'ry woe!<br>I gaze with pity, on the scenes below!<br>And bless the hour, when, freed from mortal clay,<br>My spirit mounted to the realms of day!<br>Oh! think, when past, a few eventful years,<br>Of toil and sorrow in the vale of tears;<br>Then shall we meet, releas'd from ev'ry pain,<br>Then shall we meet—nor ever part again!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391543" data-title="Lines To The Memory Of A Very Amiable Young Lady, Who Died At The Age Of Eighteen de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="AT length, departed saint! thy pangs are o'er,
And earthly suff'ring shall be thine no more;
Like some young rose-bud, blighted in its May,
Thy virtues bloom'd, to wither soon away!
Around thy grave let Spring her off'ring strew,
Her drooping lili..."></div>
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