But death's cold stiffening frost benumbs 

 Her limbs, and clouds her heavy eye — 



And hark ! her feeble moan becomes 

 A shriek of human agony. 



As if before her task was over 



She feared to die in her despair — 



But see ! those last faint strokes uncover 

 A straggling lock of thin grey hair. 



One struggle ! one convulsive start ! 



And there the face beloved lies — 

 Now be at peace, thou faithful heart ! 



She licks the livid lips, and dies. 



Caroline Bowles Southey. 



" Boatswain's " Epitaph •*£>• ^> -c> 



N 



EAR this spot 



Are deposited the Remains of one 



Who possessed Beauty without Vanity, 



Strength without Insolence, 



Courage without Ferocity, 



And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices. 



This Praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery 



If inscribed over human ashes, 



Is but a just tribute to the Memory of 



160 



