OH, not the gracious deeds your kindness knew, dear,
When shone my sun and skies were ever fair;
But the more precious sympathies you tendered
In sorrow’s hour. Those my jewels rare
Which dearer, than off’ring wealth knows to proffer,
I’ll keep beside me whate’er may attend,
Nor render up so long as Life’s day lasteth,—
Aye, and take with me, when shall plead its end.