.Nw.ODQ3

[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.