Now ended are her pains, for ever o’er!
Herself she pray’d for it, with pious eyes
To heaven, and hope, amidst the pangs she bore,
Shone on her brow serene in death to rise.
O! were it given us to penetrate
The secrets of the tomb, how oft our grief
Would it not soften down, however great!
In this same moment who of the belief
Could not assure thee, while thou dost lament,
Unhappy, thy lost wife’s untimely doom,