Bryan Waller Procter

1787-1874 / England

The Watch

I wakened on my hot, hard bed;

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…
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