To A Lady On The Death Of Her Husband

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1. To A Lady On The Death Of The Three Relations WE trace the pow’r of Death from tomb to tomb, And his are all the ages yet to come. ‘Tis his to call the planets from on high, To blacken Phoebus, and dissolve the sky; His too, when all in his dark realms are hurl’d, From its firm base to shake the solid world; His […]...
2. To A Clergyman On The Death Of His Lady WHERE contemplation finds her sacred spring, Where heav’nly music makes the arches ring, Where virtue reigns unsully’d and divine, Where wisdom thron’d, and all the graces shine, There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng, While praise eternal warbles from her tongue; There choirs angelic shout her welcome round, With perfect bliss, and peerless glory […]...
3. To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady's Brother and Sister On Death’s domain intent I fix my eyes, Where human nature in vast ruin lies, With pensive mind I search the drear abode, Where the great conqu’ror has his spoils bestow’d; There there the offspring of six thousand years In endless numbers to my view appears: Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are thrust, And […]...
4. On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light Th’ enraptur’d innocent has wing’d her flight; On the kind bosom of eternal love She finds unknown beatitude above. This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore, She feels the iron hand of pain no more; The dispensations of unerring grace, Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise; […]...
5. In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence O Lord, Thou hear’st my daily moan And see’st my dropping tears. My troubles all are Thee before, My longings and my fears. Thou hitherto hast been my God; Thy help my soul hath found. Though loss and sickness me assailed, Through Thee I’ve kept my ground. And Thy abode Thou’st made with me; With […]...
6. Upon My Dear and Loving Husband his Going into England Jan. 16 O thou Most High who rulest all And hear’st the prayers of thine, O hearken, Lord, unto my suit And my petition sign. Into Thy everlasting arms Of mercy I commend Thy servant, Lord. Keep and preserve My husband, My dear friend. At Thy command, O Lord, he went, Nor nought could keep him back. […]...
7. On The Death Of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield HAIL, happy saint, on thine immortal throne, Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown; We hear no more the music of thy tongue, Thy wonted auditories cease to throng. Thy sermons in unequall’d accents flow’d, And ev’ry bosom with devotion glow’d; Thou didst in strains of eloquence refin’d Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind. […]...
8. On The Death Of Dr. Samuel Marshall THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal Shade, On that confusion which thy death has made: Or from Olympus’ height look down, and see A Town involv’d in grief bereft of thee. Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead, And rends the graceful tresses from her head, Wild in her woe, with grief unknown opprest […]...
9. A Letter to Her Husband Absent upon Public Employment My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my magazine, of earthly store, If two be one, as surely thou and I, How stayest thou there, whilst I at Ipswich lie? So many steps, head from the heart to sever, If but a neck, soon should we […]...
10. In Thankful Remembrance for My Dear Husband's Safe Arrival What shall I render to Thy name Or how Thy praises speak? My thanks how shall I testify? O Lord, Thou know’st I’m weak. I owe so much, so little can Return unto Thy name, Confusion seizes on my soul, And I am filled with shame. O Thou that hearest prayers, Lord, To Thee shall […]...
11. To A Lady O! had my Fate been join’d with thine, As once this pledge appear’d a token, These follies had not, then, been mine, For, then, my peace had not been broken. To thee, these early faults I owe, To thee, the wise and old reproving: They know my sins, but do not know ‘Twas thine to […]...
12. Sonnet LV: My Fair, If Thou Wilt My Fair, if thou wilt register my love, A world of volumes shall thereof arise; Preserve my tears, and thou thyself shalt prove A second flood, down-raining from mine eyes. Note by my sighs, and thine eyes shall behold The sunbeams smother’d with immortal smoke; And if by thee my prayers may be enroll’d, They […]...
13. Elegy on the Death of Lady Middleton THE knell of death, that on the twilight gale, Swells its deep murmur to the pensive ear; In awful sounds repeats a mournful tale, And claims the tribute of a tender tear. The dreadful hour is past! the mandate giv’n! The gentle MIDDLETON shall breathe no more, Yet who shall blame the wise decrees of […]...
14. Death and the Lady TURN in, my lord, she said ; As it were the Father of Sin I have hated the Father of the Dead, The slayer of my kin ; By the Father of the Living led, Turn in, my lord, turn in. We were foes of old ; thy touch was cold, But mine is warm […]...
15. Elegy On The Death Of A Young Man Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, Echo from the dreary house of woe; Death-notes rise from yonder minster’s towers! Bearing out a youth, they slowly go; Yes! a youth unripe yet for the bier, Gathered in the spring-time of his days, Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, With the flame that in his […]...
16. To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On the Death Of His Daughter WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter Laid In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, And racks your bosom with incessant woe, Let Recollection take a tender part, Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, And pour the […]...
17. Any Wife To Any Husband I My love, this is the bitterest, that thou Who art all truth and who dost love me now As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say – Shouldst love so truly and couldst love me still A whole long life through, had but love its will, Would death that leads me from […]...
18. To My Excellent Lucasia, On Our Friendship I did not live until this time Crown’d my felicity, When I could say without a crime, I am not thine, but thee. This carcass breath’d, and walkt, and slept, So that the world believe’d There was a soul the motions kept; But they were all deceiv’d. For as a watch by art is wound […]...
19. Epitaph On the Lady Mary Villiers THE Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone; with weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth. If any of them, Reader, were Known unto thee, shed a tear; Or if thyself possess a gem As dear to thee, as this to them, Though a stranger […]...
20. To a Lady on Her Remarkable Preservation Though thou did’st hear the tempest from afar, And felt’st the horrors of the wat’ry war, To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar, And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand Compell’d they Nereids to usurp the land. Reluctant rose the daughters of the main, And slow ascending […]...
21. On Virtue O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. I cease to wonder, and no more attempt Thine height t’ explore, or fathom thy profound. But, O my soul, sink not into despair, Virtue is near thee, and with gentle […]...
22. On Death TEll me thou safest End of all our Woe, Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee so: Thou gentle drier o’th’ afflicteds Tears, Thou noble ender of the Cowards Fears; Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad dispaire, Thou Calm t’Ambitions rough Tempestuous Care. If in regard of Bliss thou wert a Curse, And then the Joys […]...
23. Rosalind's Scroll I LEFT thee last, a child at heart, A woman scarce in years: I come to thee, a solemn corpse Which neither feels nor fears. I have no breath to use in sighs; They laid the dead-weights on mine eyes To seal them safe from tears. Look on me with thine own calm look: I […]...
24. Let down the Bars, Oh Death Let down the Bars, Oh Death The tired Flocks come in Whose bleating ceases to repeat Whose wandering is done Thine is the stillest night Thine the securest Fold Too near Thou art for seeking Thee Too tender, to be told....
25. Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low And soonest […]...
26. Death It is not death, that sometime in a sigh This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight; That sometime these bright stars, that now reply In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night; That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite, And all life’s ruddy springs forget to flow; That thoughts shall cease, and […]...
27. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed IF God compel thee to this destiny, To die alone, with none beside thy bed To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee, Pray then alone, ‘ O Christ, come tenderly! By thy forsaken Sonship in the red Drear wine-press, by the wilderness out-spread, And […]...
28. To My Inconstant Mistress When thou, poor excommunicate From all the joys of love, shalt see The full reward and glorious fate Which my strong faith shall purchase me, Then curse thine own inconstancy. A fairer hand than thine shall cure That heart which thy false oaths did wound; And to my soul a soul more pure Than thine […]...
29. In Memoriam A. H. H.: The Prelude Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made. […]...
30. Song Of Proserpine Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom Gods and men and beasts have birth, Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine. If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow in scent and hue Fairest children of […]...
31. I Said To Love I said to Love, “It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,” I said to Love. I said to him, “We now know more of thee than then; We were […]...
32. On The Death Of A Favourite Old Spaniel And they have drown’d thee then at last! poor Phillis! The burthen of old age was heavy on thee. And yet thou should’st have lived! what tho’ thine eye Was dim, and watch’d no more with eager joy The wonted call that on thy dull sense sunk With fruitless repetition, the warm Sun Would still […]...
33. On The Death Of J. C. An Infant NO more the flow’ry scenes of pleasure rife, Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes, No more with joy we view that lovely face Smiling, disportive, flush’d with ev’ry grace. The tear of sorrow flows from ev’ry eye, Groans answer groans, and sighs to sighs reply; What sudden pangs shot thro’ each aching heart, When, […]...
34. Death My body, eh? Friend Death, how now? Why all this tedious pomp of writ? Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow For half a century bit by bit. In faith thou knowest more to-day Than I do, where it can be found! This shrivelled lump of suffering clay, To which I am now chained and […]...
35. On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread, See Sewell number’d with the happy dead. Hail, holy man, arriv’d th’ immortal shore, Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more. Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes The saint ascending to his native skies; From hence the prophet wing’d his rapt’rous way To […]...
36. On the Death of a Young Gentleman Who taught thee conflict with the pow’rs of night, To vanquish satan in the fields of light? Who strung thy feeble arms with might unknown, How great thy conquest, and how bright thy crown! War with each princedom, throne, and pow’r is o’er, The scene is ended to return no more. O could my muse […]...
37. To a Lady and Her Children O’erwhelming sorrow now demands my song: From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung. What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest? What sighs on sighs heave the fond parent’s breast? The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join Th’ increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine; The poor, who once his gen’rous bounty fed, Droop, and bewail […]...
38. Ordeal LOVE and pity are pleading with me this hour. What is this voice that stays me forbidding to yield, Offering beauty, love, and immortal power, Æons away in some far-off heavenly field? Though I obey thee, Immortal, my heart is sore. Though love be withdrawn for love it bitterly grieves: Pity withheld in the breast […]...
39. The Nymph Complaining For The Death Of Her Faun The wanton Troopers riding by Have shot my Faun and it will dye. Ungentle men! They cannot thrive To kill thee. Thou neer didst alive Them any harm: alas nor cou’d Thy death yet do them any good. I’me sure I never wisht them ill; Nor do I for all this; nor will: But, if […]...
40. Whispers of Heavenly Death WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmur’d I hear; Labial gossip of night-sibilant chorals; Footsteps gently ascending-mystical breezes, wafted soft and low; Ripples of unseen rivers-tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing; (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?) I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses; Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently […]...