 | Ostella Or the Faction of Love and Beauty Reconcil'd |  |
To Death.
Thou Grand Physitian to a troubled Brest,thou that both kill'st, and cur'st, in one exprest
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then Messenger of Hell and Happinesse;
Thou Conquerour of frail Humanity,
who yet t'imprisoned Souls giv'st liberty.
Why come not I within the benefit,
of thy Decree? thy lingring doth beget
My Jealousie: say, for my life to me
is hatefuller then thy Grim shape can be.
In ev'ry Street Mortality appears,
and yet I live though drowned in my Tears:
Kill me, and make me happy in my Death,
that living draw but discontented Breath.
I thus invok'd in Wrath, He made Reply
Lovers were made for Torment not to Die.
| Ostella Or the Faction of Love and Beauty Reconcil'd | |