From a beautiful address and prayer to the Deity:
"Great God, incomprehensible, unknown
To sense, we bow at thine exalted throne.
O while we crave thine excellence to feel,
Thy sacred presence to our hearts reveal,
And give us of that mercy to partake,
Which Thou hast promised for the Saviour's sake."
About the twenty-first year of her age Phillis was liberated; but she continued in her master's family, where she was much respected. Her health was delicate, and her physician having recommended a sea-voyage, it was arranged that she should visit England. She had not before been parted from her adopted mother, and the separation was painful to both of them.
Phillis was received and admired in the first circles of English society, her poems published, and her portrait engraved. Her countenance appears to have been pleasing, and her head highly intellectual. The health of Mrs. Wheatley declined, and she longed for her beloved companion. On the first notice of her benefactress's desire to see her, Phillis, whose humility was not shaken by flattery and attention, re-embarked for Boston. Within a short time after her return she stood by the dying bed of her mistress, mother, and friend, and Phillis Wheatley found herself alone.
Shortly after the death of her friend she married a respectable man of her own color, named Peters. He was a remarkable person—of good character, a fluent writer, a ready speaker, and altogether an intelligent, educated man. He was a grocer by trade, and, as a lawyer, pleaded the cause of his brethren, the Africans, before the courts. Phillis was twenty-three at the time of her marriage. The connection did not prove a happy one, and she being of a susceptible mind and delicate constitution, fell into a decline, and died in 1780, about the twenty-sixth year of her age.