Upon the pillow lay my head;

Beneath the pillow I could hear

My little watch was ticking clear.

I thought the throbbing of it went

Like my continual discontent,

I thought it said in every tick:

I am so sick, so sick, so sick;

O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,

Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.

EVA GORE-BOOTH