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TO OUR LADIES OF DEATH.[1]
1861.
"Tired with all these, for restful death I cry."
Weary of erring in this desert Life,
Weary of hoping hopes for ever vain,
Weary of struggling in all- sterile strife,
Weary of thought which maketh nothing plain,
I close my eyes and calm my panting breath,
And pray to Thee, O ever-quiet Death!
To come and soothe away my bitter pain.
The strong shall strive,-may they be victors crowned;
The wise still seek,—may they at length find Truth;
The young still hope,-may purest love be found
To make their age more glorious than their youth.
- ↑ The Three Ladies suggested by the sublime sisterhood of Our Ladies of Sorrow, in the "Suspiria de Profundis" of De Quincey.
