Supposed to have been written in a church-yard, over the grave of a young woman of nineteen. THOU! who sleep`st where hazle-bands entwine The vernal grass, with paler violets drest; I would, sweet maid! thy humble bed were mine, And mine thy calm and enviable rest. For never more by human ills opprest Shall thy soft spirit fruitlessly repine: Thou canst not now thy fondest hopes resign Even in the hour that should have made thee blest. Light lies the turf upon thy virgin breast; And lingering here, to love and sorrow true, The youth who once thy simple heart possest Shall mingle tears with April`s early dew; While still for him shall faithful Memory save Thy form and virtues from the silent grave.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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