Poem by John Dryden

On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk

SO fair, so young, so innocent, so sweet,
So ripe a Judgment, and so rare a Wit,
Require at least an Age in one to meet.
In her they met; but long they could not stay,
’T was Gold too fine to fix without Allay.
Heav’n’s Image was in her so well exprest,
Her very sight upbraided all the rest;
Too justly ravish’d from an Age like this,
Now she is gone, the World is of a Piece.

1. A Prologue
2. Hymn For St. John's Eve, 29th June
3. You Charm'd Me Not With That Fair Face
4. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
5. Epitaph on a Nephew in Catworth Church, Huntingdonshire

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