WHEN maidens such as Hester die Their place ye may not well supply, Though ye among a thousand try       With vain endeavour.

A month or more hath she been dead, Yet cannot I by force be led To think upon the wormy bed       And her together.

A springy motion in her gait, A rising step, did indicate Of pride and joy no common rate,       That flush'd her spirit:

I know not by what name beside I shall it call: if 'twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied,       She did inherit.

Her parents held the Quaker rule, Which doth the human feeling cool; But she was train'd in Nature's school;       Nature had blest her.

A waking eye, a prying mind; A heart that stirs, is hard to bind; A hawk's keen sight ye cannot blind;       Ye could not Hester.

My sprightly neighbour! gone before To that unknown and silent shore, Shall we not meet, as heretofore,       Some summer morning—

When from thy cheerful eyes a ray Hath struck a bliss upon the day, A bliss that would not go away,       A sweet forewarning?