Virginia Argus

Richmond, May 10th, 1812.

MADAM,

Be pleased to accept the inclosed Ode: To weep with those that weep, is decorous and praise-worthy: To excite the Powers of Sympathy, is not my intention: But a just praise is ever due to virtue and exalted merit: The balmy incense that ascends from the altar of adoration, is ever grateful to virtuous minds and excites the noblest imitations to tread the footsteps of virtue, in whose flow'ry paths are found all that enchants, adorns, and enriches the mind with brilliants, whose lustre never fades: Therefore, Dear Madam, be composed, resigned, and mourn not the early fate of the amiable Louisa. Consolation is yours and in that we participate, and that she inherits blessings abundant, joys unnumbered, and happiness eternal, is the belief of a sympathising friend.

Mrs. Preston.
AN ODE,
On the Tragical Death of the late Miss Louisa Mayo, at Richmond.

I.
As late I trod that dust of living fame,
Whose Tomb fair love, and fairer virtue keep,
Me tho't I saw that clement'ry flame,
That makes our hearts yet bleed and eyes to weep;
It must be so! It is our share of woe!
Intreaty cannot save the fair Mayo!
Mayo, the fair Mayo!

II.
Hence are the graces and the virtues fled,
That once gave lustre to her sparkling eye,
The Heavens repent the stroke and copious shed
Relenting tears, that so much worth should die!
But Heaven decrees it so! Ah! She must go!
The graces cannot save the fair Mayo!
Mayo, the fair Mayo!

III.
Virtue the first amongst her lovely train,
Press'd home her suit, and claim'd her for her own;
Nam'd how a Saviour on a Cross was slain.
Who paid her debt, and made a full atone:
Is she not mine? she cries! all full of woe!
The Gods deny'd her suit, for sweet Mayo!
Mayo, the sweet Mayo!

IV.
Her powers, her form, and eke that pleasing smile,
Are to the angelic Heavenly choirs most dear;
We lent her to mortals, only for awhile,
She now resumes her seat, and native sphere.
Were it not so, severe intruding woe,
Would make us feel the loss of sweet Mayo!
Mayo, the sweet Mayo!

V.
With grace she touch'd the Forte-Piano's wire,
And Angels listened from their high domains,
But when she sung! She set all hearts on fire,
So sweet her voice, with rapt'rous-melting strains!
The graces press'd their claim, with deepest woe!
The Gods denied their suit, for sweet Mayo!
Mayo, the sweet Mayo!

VI.
Alas! she's gone, nor can our prayers avail
To null the purpose of the Gods' decree,
Tho' plaints unnumber'd float on every gale,
As Poets feign'd, for fam'd Euridice;
Our chrystal streams, in plaintive murmurs flow!-
And our sad groves re-echo dear Mayo!
Mayo, the dear Mayo!

VII.
Ye nymphs, and swains, that frequent Shockoe-Hill,
That miss companions, who, their bosoms grieve,
Your faith shall dissipate the clay cold chill,
Of cruel Death, and horrors of the grave!
Let all your walks be contemplative, slow,
To memorise their fall, with dear Mayo!
Mayo, the dear Mayo!

VIII.
Tho' storms unnumber'd should our Bark assail,
We have a Pilot to the realms above,
Who gives us hopes to reach the Heav'nly vale,
And anchor in the bosom of his Love.
Here, may we never more behold such woe!
Such parting pangs! as with the dear Mayo!
Mayo, the dear Mayo!

IX.
O! shut the flood-gates of your limpid eyes,
And let no more indulged passions flow!
She's gone a journey to her native Skies.
And pass'd her fiery ordeal here below!
Now cease ye turbid streams of piteous woe!
She lives again, the bless'd, the sweet Mayo!
Mayo, the bless'd Mayo!

A FRIEND TO VIRTUE.
Richmond, May 10th, 1812.