Poems (Campbell)/On the Death of Miss Ursula Edmondstone, of Zetland

by Dorothea Primrose Campbell

ON THE DEATH OF MISS URSULA EDMONDSTONE, OF ZETLAND.

Where low thou li'st, lamented Fair! The Virtues and the Graces weep,And viewless beings hover there To watch thy long and dreamless sleep.

For thou wast pure in heart and mind, As is the dewy tear of morn,And ev'ry outward grace combin'd Thy faultless person to adorn.

Oh! born to charm the willing soul With native sweetness free from guile,And bend it to thy soft controul With youthful beauty's witching smile—

Those lips where magic sweetness play'd Delight the list'ning ear no more,—Silent, and cold———lamented maid! Thy short and blameless course is o'er.

O'er thy sad couch with looks of love Thy angel sister^[1] seem'd to bend,And pointing to the realms above, She warn'd thee of thy coming end.

Lovelier than ever mortal eye Beheld, or mortal heart conceiv'd,She hover'd o'er thee, while the sigh Still from thy anguish'd bosom heav'd.

When on affection's throbbing breast, Thy last, faint, fluttering sigh was giv'n,When thy rack'd frame sunk down to rest, She bore thee to thy native heav'n.

Ye mourning parents cease to weep; Her suff'rings and her pangs are o'er,And sweet and tranquil is her sleep Where pain can never reach her more.

And to that blissful, happy land, The stream of time shall waft you on,And bring you there by Heav'n's command, When some few fleeting years are gone.

And when in death ye close your eyes, Your children shall descend from heav'n,And waft your spirits to the skies, Where Virtue's blest reward is giv'n.

1. A lovely and amiable sister who died some years before.