Poems consisting of a tour through parts of North and South Wales, sonnets, odes, and an epistle to a friend on physiognomy. By W. Sotheby |
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47
SONNET III. THE SUICIDE.
Sad daughter of distress! who in the bloomOf beauty, bow'd with misery and woe,
In the dark grave art laid untimely low,
Rest! life's bleak storm is past, though by the doom
Of ruthless man, beneath unholy ground,
Thy corse amid the beaten pathway cast,
Lies where the wild birch quivers in the blast;
Yet soft descending through the stony mound,
The dew of heaven shall bathe thy clay-cold breast;
Yet shall thy suff'rings, scorn'd on earth, atone,
Where mercy dwells on high, for life's sad close;
And pity musing oft at eve alone,
On the green sod where grief and pain repose,
Shall soothe with hymns of peace thy soul to rest.
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