Page:Poems Angier.djvu/35

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THE OLD MAID.
21
For she, like Dorcas, coats and garments made,
(Kind angels deign to smile upon the trade),
And now that Fanny walks no more below,
Those whom she served, her "coats and garments show."

But not alone her fingers were employed—
Her mind well stored, no useless trash e'er cloyed;
She sparkling waters drew from Truth's deep well,
As all who heard her talk could quickly tell.

Of priest and sage, of poet grave or gay,
Historian, artist, she could "say her say;"
Their gems of thought her mental storehouse graced,
Once entered there, no line could be erased.

In politics she sided with the right,
Her "sober second thought" ne'er shunned the light;
In heart a patriot, she could brave a host,
Though calm, stern, silent as was Banquo's ghost.

In church, no less than State, she had her choice—
The good old prayer-book did her heart rejoice;