Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces | ||
66
TO A DYING FRIEND.
No—never—no—I feign would linger
Near friendship passing to the tomb,
To close thy lids with trembling finger,
And kiss the cheek that cannot bloom.
Near friendship passing to the tomb,
To close thy lids with trembling finger,
And kiss the cheek that cannot bloom.
For, as by mercy's kind concession,
To soothe the mourner, who remains,
Full many a trace of life's expression
The earliest hour of death retains.
To soothe the mourner, who remains,
Full many a trace of life's expression
The earliest hour of death retains.
Affection's dictates still obeying,
I'll thus stay by thee, while a trace,
The faintest trace, and that decaying,
Yet lurks within so dear a face.
I'll thus stay by thee, while a trace,
The faintest trace, and that decaying,
Yet lurks within so dear a face.
Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces | ||