For me does now remain.
Tir’d of the Ills of a long Life,
And sick of all its Cares,
For speedy Death I now address
To Heav’n my anxious Pray’rs.
The COUNTESS.
They spend their Days in Wealth, and in a Moment go down to the Grave.
Job xxi. 13.
For me does now remain.
Tir’d of the Ills of a long Life,
And sick of all its Cares,
For speedy Death I now address
To Heav’n my anxious Pray’rs.
They spend their Days in Wealth, and in a Moment go down to the Grave.
Job xxi. 13.