Enough; and leave the rest to fame

Enough; and leave the rest to Fame.
'Tis to Commend her, but to name.
Courtship, which liveing she declined
When dead to offer; were unkind.
Where never any could speake ill.
Who would officious Praises spill.
Nor can the truest Wit or friend
Without Detracting her Commend.
To say she livd a Virgin Chast.
In this Age loose and all unlaid;
Nor was, where vice is so allowed,
Of Virtue or Asham'd or Proud;
That her Soule was on heav'n 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 Morne, as Midday, Bright;
Gentle, as Evening, Coole, as Night:
Tis true, but all so weakly said,
'Twere more Significant: She's Dead.

An Epitaph, by Andrew Marvell

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