Book 2 — MORIENS SUPERSTITI[61:2]

The hour-bell sounds, and I must go; Death waits—again I hear him calling;— No cowardly desires have I, Nor will I shun his face appalling. I die in faith and honour rich— 5 But ah! I leave behind my treasure In widowhood and lonely pain;— To live were surely then a pleasure! My lifeless eyes upon thy face Shall never open more to-morrow; 10 To-morrow shall thy beauteous eyes Be closed to Love, and drown'd in Sorrow; To-morrow Death shall freeze this hand, And on thy breast, my wedded treasure, I never, never more shall live;— 15 Alas! I quit a life of pleasure.