“The fairest thing in mortal eyes”

From the French by Henry Francis Cary Addressed to his deceased wife, who died in childbed at the age of twenty-two TO make my lady’s obsequies My love a minster wrought, And, in the chantry, service there Was sung by doleful thought; The tapers were of burning sighs, That light and odor gave: And sorrows, painted o’er with tears, Enluminèd her grave; And round about, in quaintest guise, Was carved: “Within this tomb there lies The fairest thing in mortal eyes.” Above her lieth spread a tomb Of gold and sapphires blue: The gold doth show her blessedness, The sapphires mark her true; For blessedness and truth in her Were livelily portrayed, When gracious God with both his hands Her goodly substance made. He framed her in such wondrous wise, She was, to speak without disguise, The fairest thing in mortal eyes. No more, no more! my heart doth faint When I the life recall Of her who lived so free from taint, So virtuous deemed by all,— That in herself was so complete I think that she was ta’en By God to deck his paradise, And with his saints to reign, Whom while on earth each one did prize The fairest thing in mortal eyes. But naught our tears avail, or cries; All soon or late in death shall sleep; Nor living wight long time may keep The fairest thing in mortal eyes.