An Epitaph

 ENOUGH; and leave the rest to Fame! 
'Tis to commend her, but to name.
 
Courtship which, living, she declined, 
When dead, to offer were unkind: 
Nor can the truest wit, or friend, 
Without detracting, her commend.
 

To say--she lived a virgin chaste 
In this age loose and all unlaced; 
Nor was, when vice is so allowed, 
Of virtue or ashamed or proud; 
That her soul was on Heaven so bent, 
No minute but it came and went; 
That, ready her last debt to pay, 
She summ'd her life up every day; 
Modest as morn, as mid-day bright, 
Gentle as evening, cool as night: 
--'Tis true; but all too weakly said.
 
'Twas more significant, she's dead.

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