Samuel Taylor Coleridge — On seeing a Youth Affectionately Welcomed by a Sister

       &nbspI too a sister had! too cruel Death!        &nbsp       &nbspHow sad Remembrance bids my bosom heave!        &nbspTranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's breath;        &nbsp       &nbspMeek were her manners as a vernal Eve.        &nbspKnowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind,        &nbsp       &nbspGave her the treasure of a lowly breast,        &nbspAnd Wit to venom'd Malice oft assign'd,        &nbsp       &nbspDwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest.        &nbspCease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart;        &nbsp       &nbspNor on my soul her love to me impress!        &nbspFor oh I mourn in anguish—and my heart        &nbsp       &nbspFeels the keen pang, th' unutterable distress. Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease, For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace!