 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
Song.
I
Sad thoughts make hast and kill me out,I live too long in pain;
'Tis dying to be still in doubt,
And death, that ends all miseries,
The chief and only favour is
The wretched can obtain.
47
II
I have liv'd long enough to knowThat life is a Disease,
At least it does torment me so,
That Death, at whom the happy start,
I court to come, and with his Dart
To give me a release.
III
Come, friendly Death, then strike me dead,For all this while I die,
And but long dying nothing dread;
Yet being with grief the one half slain,
With all thy power thou wilt gain
But half a Victory.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |