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An Epitaph

 ENOUGH; and leave the rest to Fame! 
'Tis to commend her, but to name.
Courtship which, living, she declined, When dead, to offer were unkind: Nor can the truest wit, or friend, Without detracting, her commend.
To say--she lived a virgin chaste In this age loose and all unlaced; Nor was, when vice is so allowed, Of virtue or ashamed or proud; That her soul was on Heaven so bent, No minute but it came and went; That, ready her last debt to pay, She summ'd her life up every day; Modest as morn, as mid-day bright, Gentle as evening, cool as night: --'Tis true; but all too weakly said.
'Twas more significant, she's dead.

by Walter de la Mare
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