The unfeigned tears
of the female sex
The late NOBLE and WELL-BORN/
Mistress MARJA Hiärne/
Who in her very prime/was wrested from this life
by temporal Death/ on 11 December Anno 1690.
Death who had made up his mind
For his silent haunt to capture/
What his endless night unkind
Might provide with some small rapture/
Sought with care where for the telling
Some fair beauty might be dwelling.
Long he stood with hope forlorn/
That he ever would discover
Human flesh so pure in form/
It could fully triumph over/
All that’s dreary dark down-hearted
In the realm of those departed.
But he finally could see/
For his plot success awaiting/
When austere Fate’s sisters three
Helped him now in extricating/
What for earthly joy and pleasure
Heaven/had composed at leisure.
Even nature/ grieves you too/
Mourns her beauty’s template’s passing/
As your sex does which through you/
Prized its beauty all-surpassing.
Misses/ mourns laments unceasing/
What but once could be so pleasing.
Some / your outward loveliness
Feel is an unrivalled treasure/
Others / who your conduct stress
Testify in what full measure/
Inner qualities exceeded
And your fairness yet preceded.
Were you fashioned so divine
Fair one / with the sole intention?
Grave / earth dust you should outshine/
Make with paradise contention
Will death gain then from your beauty?
And acquire so great a booty.
Thus the lesser sex allow
Unrestrained to gain a hearing/
One at last yet did avow
They should end such mindless fearing/
And with reasons most well-suited/
Their opinion now refuted
She said Sisters it’s well-known
But the smallest part earth’s gaining/
Once that heaven’s had its own/
This account ne’er be disdaining/
Know that Death can but be claiming
Dust and what is not worth naming.