Mrs. M. E. Her Funeral Tears for the Death of her Husband

Grief, keep within and scorn to show but tears,
Since joy can weep as well as thou,
  Disdain to sigh, for so can slender cares,
Which but from idle causes grow.
Do not look forth, unless thou didst know how
  To look with thine own face, and as thou art.
  And only let my heart,
    That knows more reason why,
    Pine, fret, consume, swell, burst and die.

   Drop not, mine eyes, nor trickle down so fast,
 For so you could do oft before
   In our sad farewells and sweet meetings past.
 And shall his death now have no more?
 Can niggard sorrow yield no other store
   To show the plenty of affliction's smart?
   Then only thou, poor heart,
      That know'st more reason why,
      Pine, fret, consume, swell, burst and die.

Have all our passions certain proper vents,
And sorrow none that is her own,
  But she must borrow others' complements
To make her inward feelings known?
Are joy's delights and death's compassion shown
  With one like face and one lamenting part?
  Then only thou, poor heart,
     That know'st more reason why,
     Pine, fret, consume, swell, burst and die.