Come, then, all filth, all venom, as thou art,
Rage in thy eye, and rancour in thy heart;
Come with thy boasted arms, spite, malice, lies,
Smut, scandal, execrations, blasphemies.
Wolfe (Charles, Irish clergyman and poet, author of "Burial of Sir John Moore," which is regarded as one of the most finished poems of its kind in the English language), 1791-1823. "Close this eye, the other is closed already; and now farewell!"
On going to bed he felt very drowsy; and soon after the stupor of death began to creep over him. He began to pray for all his dearest friends individually; but his voice faltering, he could only say—"God bless them all! The peace of God and of Jesus Christ overshadow them, dwell in them, reign in them!" "My peace," said he, addressing his sister (the peace I now feel), "Be with you!"—"Thou, O God, wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee." His speech again began to fail, and he fell into a slumber; but whenever his senses were recalled he returned to prayer. He repeated part of the Lord's prayer, but was unable to proceed; and at last, with a composure scarcely credible at such a moment, he whispered to the dear relative who hung over his death-bed, "Close this eye, the other is closed already; and now farewell!" Then, having again uttered part of the Lord's prayer, he fell asleep.
Rev. John A. Russell: "Remains of Rev. Charles Wolfe."
Wolfe (James, a celebrated English officer, killed in the battle of Quebec), 1726-1759. "I die happy." On being told of the defeat of the French.
Some give his last words thus: "Support me, let not my brave soldiers see me drop; the day is ours! Oh! keep it!" Said to those who were near him when he received his wound. He feared the effect of his death upon his troops.
Wollstonecraft (Mary, afterwards Mrs. Godwin, English authoress), 1759-1797. "I know what you are thinking of, but I have nothing to communicate on the subject of religion," to her husband who was endeavoring to tell her death was near and to sound her mind in the matter of a spiritual world.
Wolsey (Thomas, known in history as Cardinal Wolsey), 1471-1530. "Master Kingston, farewell! My time draweth on fast. Forget not what I have said and charged you withal; for when I am dead ye shall, peradventure, understand my words better."
D'Aubigné's "History of the Reformation."
On the morning of the second day, as Cavendish was watching near Wolsey, he inquired the hour, and being told eight o'clock,—"That cannot be," he replied, "for at eight o'clock you will lose your master: my time is at hand, and I must depart this world." His confessor, who was standing near, requested Cavendish to enquire if he would be confessed. "What have you to do with that?" answered the Cardinal, angrily; but was appeased by the interference of the confessor. He continued to grow weaker all that day: about four o'clock the next morning, he asked for some refreshment, which having received, and made his final confession, Sir William Kingston entered his room, and enquired how he felt himself: "I tarry," said the dying man, "but the pleasure of God, to render up my poor soul into His hands. I have now been eight days together troubled with a continual flux and fever, a species of disease which, if it do not remit its violence within that period, never fails to terminate in death." Then follows his message to the King, concluding with, "Had I served my God as diligently as I have served the King, He would not have given me over in my grey hairs." He then continued, for a short time, to give Sir William some advice, concluding with, "Forget not what I have said; and when I am gone, call it often to mind." Towards the conclusion, his accents began to falter; at the end, his eyes became motionless, and his sight failed. The abbot was summoned to administer the extreme unction, and the yeomen of the guard were called to see him die. As the clock struck eight he expired, on the 29th of November, 1530.