| Citation |
NHG-P.764.019
8 Jun 1764:13 (401)
ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY.
'Tis done! and the glad soul has wing'd her flight,
From grief and gloom to happiness and light;
Delia no more shall pain or sickness know,
For gentle death has clos'd the scene of woe,
Lock'd the fair virgin in his icy arms,
and triumph o'er a world of faded charms:
Affrighted at his touch, see beauty fly,
Pale grows the cheek, and dim the sparkling eye;
Those lips that late could every care beguile,
Have lost their rubies and forgot to smile;
And what was once with softest music hung,
Depriv'd of motion, lies a lifeless tongue.
. . . [12 more lines]
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