Epitaph on Elizabeth, wife of J. B. Simpson, Esq.

Though breathing tints, wak’d by this now cold hand,
To widow’d love’s admiring gaze remain,
No more Eliza’s melting tones expand,
Till choiring with the seraph’s kindred strain.

Yet, while the mourner wails his years forlorn,
In floods of anguish, o’er her early doom,
Sky-towering Hope, on Faith’s strong pinion borne,
Bursts the dark portals of the ruthless tomb.