Whilst thou wert anxious in removing mine.
“On a Sick-bed, attended, soothed, caressed,
Healed of my Wounds, but smitten in my heart—
‘And must we part?’ were Words my Love exprest;
Some listening Daemon eccho’d: ‘Must you part?
“‘Art thou not dead to all the World beside,
Save these, the kind Preservers of thy Life?
Can’st thou not ask that Angel for thy Bride,
And quit the Woman who is now thy Wife?
“‘’Tis a sad Truth; but Truth may be denied. 280