Friend to the wretch whom every friend forsakes,
I woo thee, Death! - Life and all its joys
I leave to those that prize them.
Hear me, O gracious God! At Thy good time
Let Death approach; I reck not - let him but come
In genuine form, not with Thy vengeance arm'd,
Too much for man to bear. Oh, rather lend
Thy kindly aid to mitigate his stroke;
And at that hour when all aghast I stand
(A trembling candidate for Thy compassion)
On this world's brink, and look into the next,-
When my soul, starting from the dark unknown,
Casts back a wishful look, and fondly clings
To her frail prop, unwilling to be wrench'd
From this fair scene, from all her 'custom'd joys,
And all the lovely relatives of life -
Then shed Thy comforts o'er me; then put on
The gentlest of Thy looks. Let no dark crimes,
In all their hideous forms then starting up,
Plant themselves round my couch in grim array,
And stab my bleeding heart with two-edged torture-
Sense of past guilt, and dread of future woe.
Far be the ghastly crew! and in their stead
Let cheerful Memory, from her purest cells,
Lead forth a goodly train of virtues fair,
Cherish'd in earliest youth, now paying back
With tenfold usury the pious care,
And pouring o'er my wounds the heavenly balm
Of conscious innocence.-But chiefly Thou,
Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from heaven
To bleed for man, to teach him how to live,
And, oh, still harder lesson! how to die,-
Disdain not Thou to smoothe the restless bed
Of sickness and of pain; - forgive the tear
That feeble Nature drops; calm all her fears;
Wake all her hopes, and animate her faith,
Till my rapt soul, anticipating heaven,
Bursts from the thraldom of encumbering clay,
And, on the wing of ecstasy upborne,
Springs into liberty, and light, and life.