Hope was awaken’d, as for home he sail’d,
But quickly sank, and never more prevail’d.
He call’d his friend, and prefaced with a sigh
A lover’s message - “Thomas, I must die:
Would I could see my Sally, and could rest
My throbbing temples on her faithful breast,
And gazing go! - if not, this trifle take,
And say, till death I wore it for her sake:
Yes! I must die - blow on, sweet breeze, blow on!
Give me one look before my life be gone,