“Ask the faithful youth
Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved
So often fills his arms; so often draws
His lonely footsteps at the silent hour
To pay the mournful tribute of his tears?
Oh! he will tell thee that the wealth of worlds
Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego
That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise
Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes
With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast,
And turns his tears to rapture.”

— Mark Akenside, book The Pleasures of the Imagination

Book II, lines 683–693
The Pleasures of the Imagination (1744)

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Mark Akenside17

English poet and physician 1721–1770

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