And best He knew her noble character, But pride, that schism of incivility, She had, and it became her! she was fit --- To another, Move - he went; to a third, Go— 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 Of sorrow, than all pomp of gaudy days; Her broken sighs did never miss whole sense, To clothe the naked, feed the hungry. She Poring, as on a map, to find the ways To that eternal rest, where now sh' hath place To Him should be her judge, true God, true Man, In that great act of judgment, which the Father In this sweet ecstasy she was wrapt hence, In pietatis memoriam Quam prastas Venetia tuæ illustrissim. Marit. dign. DIGBEIE Hanc AIO ENZIN, tibi, tuisque sacro. [THE TENTH, Being her INSCRIPTION, OR CROWN, is lost.] |