Yet still though we bend with a feign'd resignation,
Life beams not for us with one ray that can cheer,
Love and hope upon earth bring no more consolation,
In the grave is our hope, for in life is our fear.
6.
Oh! when, my ador'd, in the tomb will they place me,
Since in life, love and friendship, for ever are fled,
If again in the mansion of death I embrace thee,
Perhaps they will leave unmolested—the dead.
1805.