The unfeigned
tears
of the female sex
Shed over
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.
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