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And best He knew her noble character,
For 'twas Himself who formed and gave it her.
And to that form lent two such veins of blood,
As nature could not more increase the flood
Of title in her! all nobility
But pride, that schism of incivility,
She had, and it became her! she was fit
T have known no envy, but by suffering it!
She had a mind as calm as she was fair;
Not tossed or troubled with light lady-air,
But kept an even gait, as some straight tree
Moved by the wind, so comely moved she.
And by the awful manage of her eye,
She swayed all business in the family.
To one she said, Do this

- he did it; so
To another, Move — he went; to a third, Go –
He ran; and all did strive with diligence
Tobey, and serve her sweet commandements.

She was in one a many parts of life; A tender mother, a discreeter wife, A solemn mistress, and so good a friend, So charitable to a religious end In all her petite actions, so devote, As her whole life was now become one note Of piety and private holiness. She spent more time in tears herself to dress For her devotions, and those sad essays Of sorrow, than all pomp of gaudy days; And came forth ever cheered with the rod Of divine comfort, when sh' had talked with God.

Her broken sighs did never miss whole sense,
Nor can the bruised heart want eloquence :
For prayer is the incense most perfumes
The holy altars, when it least presumes.
And hers were all humility! they beat
The door of grace, and found the mercy-seat.
In frequent speaking by the pious psalms
Her solemn hours she spent, or giving alms,
Or doing other deeds of charity,
To clothe the naked, feed the hungry. She
Would sit in an infirmary whole days
Poring, as on a map, to find the ways
To that eternal rest, where now sh’ hath place
By sure election and predestined grace!
She saw her Saviour, by an early light,
Incarnate in the manger, shining bright
On all the world ! she saw Him on the cross
Suffering and dying to redeem our loss :
She saw Him rise triumphing over death,
To justify and quicken us in breath ;
She saw Him too in glory to ascend
For His designed work, the perfect end
Of raising, judging and rewarding all
The kind of man, on whom His doom should fall!

All this by faith she saw, and framed a plea
In manner of a daily apostrophe,
To Him should be her judge, true God, true Man,
Jesus, the only-gotten Christ! who can,
As being Redeemer and repairer too
Of lapsed nature, best know what to do,

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In that great act of judgment, which the Father
Hath given wholly to the Son (the rather
As being the Son of Man) to show His power,
His wisdom and His justice, in that hour,
The last of hours, and shutter up of all;
Where first His power will appear, by call
Of all are dead to life; His wisdom show
In the discerning of each conscience so;
And most His justice, in the fitting parts,
And giving dues to all mankind's deserts !

In this sweet ecstasy she was wrapt hence,
Who reads, will pardon my intelligence,
That thus have ventured these true strains upon,
To publish her a saint. My muse is gone!

In pietatis memoriam

Quam pristas
Venetiæ tue illustrissim.

Marit, dign. DIGBEIE
Hanc AIIOOENZIN, tibi, tuisque sacro.

[THE TENTH,
Being her INSCRIPTION, OR Crowx, is lost. ]

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

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