Some remnant might be extant, of the true
And faithful love, I ever tendered you.30
Oh! rest in peace, dear Friends, and let it be
No pride to say, the sometime part of me.
What pain and anguish doth afflict the head.
The heart and stomach, when the limbs are dead.—
So grieved I kiss your graves, resolved to die,
A Foster-Father to your memory.
As those we love decay, we die in part.
String after string is severed from the heart;
'Till loos'n'd life, at last but breathing clay
Without one pang is glad to fall away.
Unhappy he who latest feels the blow,
Whose eyes have wept o'er every friend laid low,
Dragged lingering on from partial death to death,
'Till, dying, all he can resign is breath.
Thomson
G 2
83
