When in the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
The judging God shall close the book of fate:
And there the last assizes keep,
For those who wake, and those who sleep;
When rattling bones together fly,
From the four corners of the sky;
When sinews o'er the skeletons are spread,
Those clothed with flesh, and life inspires the dead;

The sacred poets first shall hear the sound,
And foremost from the tomb shall bound,
For they are cover'd with the lightest ground;
And straight, with inborn vigour, on the wing,
Like mounting larks, to the new morning sing.
There thou, sweet saint, before the quire shalt go,
As harbinger of heaven, the way to show,
The way which thou so well hast learn'd below.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 34: 'Killigrew:' a lady of remarkable promise alike in
painting and poetry; maid of honour to the Duchess of York; died at the
age of 25, in 1685; her father an eminent clergyman, her brother a wit.]

[Footnote 35: 'Orinda:' Mrs Catherine Philips, author of a book of
poems, died, like Mrs Killigrew, of the small-pox, in 1664, being only
thirty-two years of age.]