Epigram 27. An Epitaph on Mrs. M. H

Here lies a body whose soul went hence
Fuller of Glory then Innocence:
What her life wanted to make high
Her worth, she wrought when she did die:
And now when all her fight is done,
Her Foes must say that she hath won.
Let her faults perish with her breath,
And none think of her life, but death.