ADDRESSED BY M. D—-, A YOUNG MAN OF TWENTY-
FOUR YEARS OF AGE, THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS
EXECUTION, TO A YOUNG LADY TO WHOM
HE WAS ENGAGED.–1794.
I.
THE hour that calls to death is near,
It brings to me no throb of fear;
The breast that honour arms, can brave
The murd’rer’s steel, th’ untimely grave;
But thou, to whom I gave my heart,
From thee for ever must I part?
Wilt thou not hear my latest sigh?–
Ah, ’tis a cruel task to die!
II.
To-morrow, my clos’d eyes no more
Shall gaze on beauty I adore;
To-morrow, sadd’ning every grace,
Unceasing tears shall bathe thy face;
To-morrow, chill’d by death’s cold grasp,
This hand no longer thine shall clasp;
For thou–no more wilt thou be nigh–
Ah, ’tis a cruel task to die!
(Helen Maria Williams)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Night Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Faces Poems, Youth Poems, Beauty Poems, Fear Poems, Age PoemsBased on Keywords: sadd