And here the precious dust is laid; 
Whose purely-temper'd clay was made 
So fine that it the guest betray'd. 

Else the soul grew so fast within, 
It broke the outward shell of sin, 
And so was hatch'd a cherubin. 

In height, it soar'd to God above; 
In depth, it did to knowledge move, 
And spread in breadth to general love. 

Before, a pious duty shin'd 
To parents, courtesy behind; 
On either side an equal mind. 

Good to the poor, to kindred dear, 
To servants kind, to friendship clear, 
To nothing but herself severe. 

So, though a virgin, yet a bride 
To ev'ry grace, she justified 
A chaste polygamy, and died. 

Learn from hence, reader, what small trust 
We owe this world, where virtue must, 
Frail as our flesh, crumble to dust.