Sweet friend, farewell! to whom propitious birth
Gave beautysensethe prosperous goods of earth;
To whom not less were faith and duty given,
Those better gifts which fit our earth for heaven.
First by glad daysthen through long sickness tried,
'Mid pleasurespureby pain still purified;
Such was that soul, which meekly kissed the rod,
Then soared, for us too soon, and rests with God.
Farewell! our love inscribes this faithful stone,
Not to bewail thy lot, but weep our own.
To The Lamented Memory Of F. H. C.
written byJohn Kenyon
© John Kenyon