In that sad hour death marked him for his own;
His feeble frame, unequal to the strife
With strong disease already undergone,
Must yield itself to Death. O, gentle wife!
It is too late to call the dying back to life:
XVIII.
Yes—’tis indeed too late. All, all in vain
Their efforts to revive the dying one;
Why should they seek the spirit to detain,
Which may be free before the rising sun,