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(Created page with "[in upper right hand corner: 102] [E]legy written by J. [Wooled?] M. D. on the death of his Wife Lo, to the iron hnd of Fate my dear [Hatia?], meek, souled mate [Resignd] he...") |
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[in upper right hand corner: 102] | [in upper right hand corner: 102] | ||
[E]legy written by J. | [E]legy written by J. Woolcot M. D. on the death of his Wife | ||
Lo, to the iron | Lo, to the iron hand of Fate | ||
my dear [Hatia?], meek, | my dear [Hatia?], meek, soul'd mate | ||
Resigns her tuneful breath! | |||
Though | Though lock'd her teeth, her lips tho pale | ||
and blue each harmless finger nail | and blue each harmless finger nail | ||
She's beautiful in death. | |||
[s]oon as I heard the last sweet sigh | [s]oon as I heard the last sweet sigh | ||
[A]nd saw her lovely closing eye | |||
how great was my surprise! | how great was my surprise! | ||
[but? | [but?] did I not with impious breath | ||
[?]maign the sudden shaft of death | |||
nor blame the righteous skies! | nor blame the righteous skies! | ||
[W]hy do I | [W]hy do I groan in deep despair | ||
[ | Wife she's [uncertain writing beneath] a first rate angel fair; | ||
ah why my bosom | ah why my bosom smite? | ||
Could grief Hatia | Could grief Hatia "life restore! | ||
But let me give such | But let me give such ravings o'er, | ||
Whatever is is right | Whatever is is right | ||
[Th]e friends who come to mourn her doom | [Th]e friends who come to mourn her doom | ||
for Gods | for Gods sake, gently tread the room, | ||
nor call her from the blest! | nor call her from the blest! | ||
In softest silence | In softest silence drop the tear | ||
[ | [her] wishers breath the fervent prayer | ||
To bid her spirit rest. | To bid her spirit rest. | ||
[R]epress the sad the wounding scream | |||
[ | [I] cannot bear such grief extream | ||
cannot bear such grief | Enough - one little sigh! | ||
[B]esides the wild uproar of grief | |||
In many a mind might vain belief | |||
In many a | |||
That all our griefs' a lie. | That all our griefs' a lie. | ||
Latest revision as of 07:01, 20 July 2017
[in upper right hand corner: 102]
[E]legy written by J. Woolcot M. D. on the death of his Wife
Lo, to the iron hand of Fate my dear [Hatia?], meek, soul'd mate Resigns her tuneful breath! Though lock'd her teeth, her lips tho pale and blue each harmless finger nail She's beautiful in death.
[s]oon as I heard the last sweet sigh [A]nd saw her lovely closing eye how great was my surprise! [but?] did I not with impious breath [?]maign the sudden shaft of death nor blame the righteous skies!
[W]hy do I groan in deep despair Wife she's [uncertain writing beneath] a first rate angel fair; ah why my bosom smite? Could grief Hatia "life restore! But let me give such ravings o'er, Whatever is is right [Th]e friends who come to mourn her doom for Gods sake, gently tread the room, nor call her from the blest! In softest silence drop the tear [her] wishers breath the fervent prayer To bid her spirit rest. [R]epress the sad the wounding scream [I] cannot bear such grief extream Enough - one little sigh! [B]esides the wild uproar of grief In many a mind might vain belief That all our griefs' a lie.