VERSES ON THE DEATH OF MRS NIXON
And death has chosen the spot
Where next he will take his stand
Is it a place by the poor man’s bed
One who seeks rest for a weary head,
Or a great one of the land?
Is it a homeless wanderer who
Received the summons to go,
Whose cup of ills has been bitter and deep
Whose life seemed a cry for the dreamless sleep
The wretched would wish to know?
Alas! that it were not so.
But no; he has chose one
Society ill could spare,
Accomplished, beautiful, good, and kind,
A world of sentiment, wealth of mind,
Her virtues many and rare.
She died in the morning of life,
When hopes and hearts soar high,
Ere the fiends of adversity, care and hate
Had dared for to breathe upon aught so great,
Or calumny ventured nigh.
Long will her loss be mourned,
Long will the want be seen;
Tears of blood shall her children weep,
And her husband, in melancholy deep,
Sigh for the days that have been.
Patrick Fee Given (P.F.G.) 13th August 1864