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Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton - Sonnet XVII
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Nor wert thou only by thy kindred wept,-- 
Young mother! gentle daughter! cherish`d wife! 
Deep in her memory France hath fondly kept 
The records of thy unassuming life: 
Oft shall the statue heroine bring to mind,-- 
As pale it gleams beneath the light of day, 
In all the thoughtful grace by thee design`d,-- 
The worth and talent which have pass`d away! 
Oft shall the old, who see thy child pass by, 
Smiling and glad, despite his orphan`d lot, 
Look on him with a blessing and a sigh; 
As one who suffers loss, yet feels it not, 
But lifting up his innocent eyes in prayer, 
Vaguely imagines Heaven,-foretaught that thou art THERE!
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