Andrew Marvell - An EpitaphAndrew Marvell - An Epitaph
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ENOUGH; and leave the rest to Fame!
`Tis to commend her, but to name.
Courtship which, living, she declined,
When dead, to offer were unkind:
Nor can the truest wit, or friend,
Without detracting, her commend.
To say—she lived a virgin chaste
In this age loose and all unlaced;
Nor was, when vice is so allowed,
Of virtue or ashamed or proud;
That her soul was on Heaven so bent,
No minute but it came and went;
That, ready her last debt to pay,
She summ`d her life up every day;
Modest as morn, as mid-day bright,
Gentle as evening, cool as night:
—`Tis true; but all too weakly said.
`Twas more significant, she`s dead.
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