Lines on His Sister Mary

Lives there not now in Scotia’s land
The fairest of the female band?
A maid adorned with every grace
E’er known among the female race?
Use all my aid, if that can tell
Her praise and virtues that excel;
No fiction here you will require
The swelling note of praise to fire;
But ah! her virtues to rehearse
Is sure unequal for thy verse.
Then, cease; but let resounding fame
Tell that Maria is her name.