To Catharine

Fresh may the flow'rs of remembrance remain
When calmly thy sister is sleeping;
And still may thy warm heart its kindness retain
When cold dews my pillow are steeping.
Brightly for thee may the buds of delight
Expand their young leaves in the dawning,
Ere the lustre of life can be dimm'd by the night,
Or the hopes be destroy'd of its morning!