Nor wert thou only by thy kindred wept,-- <br />Young mother! gentle daughter! cherish'd wife! <br />Deep in her memory France hath fondly kept <br />The records of thy unassuming life: <br />Oft shall the statue heroine bring to mind,-- <br />As pale it gleams beneath the light of day, <br />In all the thoughtful grace by thee design'd,-- <br />The worth and talent which have pass'd away! <br />Oft shall the old, who see thy child pass by, <br />Smiling and glad, despite his orphan'd lot, <br />Look on him with a blessing and a sigh; <br />As one who suffers loss, yet feels it not, <br />But lifting up his innocent eyes in prayer, <br />Vaguely imagines Heaven,-foretaught that thou art THERE!<br /><br />Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xvii-6/
