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Literary Gazette, 28th April, 1832, Page 266
ORIGINAL POETRY.
DEATH AND THE YOUTH.
"Not yet—the flowers are in my path,
The sun is in my sky;
Not yet—my heart is full of hope—
I cannot bear to die.
Not yet—I never knew till now
How precious life could be;
My heart is full of love—oh, Death
I cannot come with thee!"
But Love and Hope, enchanted twain,
Passed in their falsehood by;
Death came again, and then he said—
"I'm ready now to die!"
