| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXIX. The Happy Dead
From ‘Epitaph on the Daughter of Sir Thomas Wentworth’ | | By Thomas Carew (1595?–1639?) |
| | | AND here the precious dust is laid, | |
| Whose purely-tempered clay was made | |
| So fine, that it the guest betrayed…. | |
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| In height, it soar’d to God above, | |
| In depth, it did to knowledge move, | 5 |
| And spread in breadth to general love…. | |
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| Good to the poor, to kindred dear, | |
| To servants kind, to friendship clear, | |
| To nothing but herself severe. | |
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| So, though a virgin, yet a bride | 10 |
| To every grace, she justified | |
| A chaste polygamy, and died. | |
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| Learn from hence, reader, what small trust | |
| We owe this world, where virtue must, | |
| Frail as our flesh, crumble to dust. | 15 | | | |
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