Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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A Sonnet.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
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A Sonnet.
Written by Sig. Fra. Gorgia, who was born as they were carrying his Mother to her Grave.
Unhappy I came from my Mother's Womb,
As She, Oh Blessed She! who gave me Breath,
Having receiv'd the Fatal Stroak of Death,
By weeping Friends was carryed to her Tomb.
As She, Oh Blessed She! who gave me Breath,
Having receiv'd the Fatal Stroak of Death,
By weeping Friends was carryed to her Tomb.
The Sorrow I exprest, and grievous Cries,
Love's Tribute were, for her to Heav'n was gone,
My Coffin, and my Cradle, both were one,
And at her Sun-set, mine began to rise.
Love's Tribute were, for her to Heav'n was gone,
My Coffin, and my Cradle, both were one,
And at her Sun-set, mine began to rise.
Wretch, how I quake to think on that sad Day!
Which both for Life and Death at once made way;
Being gave the Son, and Mother turn'd to Earth.
Which both for Life and Death at once made way;
Being gave the Son, and Mother turn'd to Earth.
Alas, I dye! Not that Life hasts so fast,
But that to me each Minute seems the last,
For I, in Death's cold Arms, receiv'd my Birth.
But that to me each Minute seems the last,
For I, in Death's cold Arms, receiv'd my Birth.
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