Note 117 — Front matter (continued 3)

The sad lines in his last poem, entitled "Waiting for Death," will long be remembered:—

"Deformed and wrinkled; all that I can crave Is quiet in my grave. Such as live happy hold long life a jewel; But to me thou art cruel If thou end not my tedious misery, And I soon cease to be. Strike, and strike home then; pity unto me, In one short hour's delay, is tyranny!"