The link of nature draw me.
... From thy state
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
THOU hast sat out on a long journey—but you shall not go alone—I hasten to overtake thee. My resolution is not to be diverted—is not to be shaken—I will not be afraid—I am inexorable—
I HAVE just seen my father—he is dejected—sullen grief is fixed upon his brow—he tells me I am very ill—I looked at Myra—she wiped her face with her handkerchief—perhaps they did not imagine this was the last time they were to behold me.
SHE mentioned the name of Worthy, but my thoughts were differently engaged. She repeated your name, but I took no heed of it. Take her, my Worthy—Myra is a good girl—take her—comfort her. Let not my departure interrupt your happiness—perhaps it may for a short time. When the grass is grown over my grave, lead her to it, in your pensive walks—point to the spot where my ashes are deposited—drop one tear on the remembrance of a friend, of a brother—but I cannot allow you to be grieved—grieve for me! Wretch that I am—why do I delay—
I WISH I could be buried by the side of her, then should the passenger who knows the history of our unfortunate loves, say—“Here lies Harrington and his Harriot—in their lives they loved, but were unhappy—in death they sleep undivided.”—Guardian spirits will protect the tomb which conceals her body—the body where every virtue delighted to inhabit.—
DO not judge too rashly of my conduct—let me pray you to be candid,—I have taken advantage of a quiet moment, and written an Epitaph—If my body were laid by her’s, the inscription would be pertinent. Let no one concerned be offended at the moral I have chosen to draw from our unfortunate story.
MY heart sinks within me—the instrument of death is before me—farewel! farewel!—My soul sighs to be freed from its confinement—Eternal Father! accept my spirit—Let the tears of sorrow blot out my guilt from the book of thy wrath.