GRIM monarch! see, depriv'd of vital breath, <br />A young physician in the dust of death: <br />Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, <br />Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? <br />Enough thou never yet wast known to say, <br />Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: <br />Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, <br />Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move. <br />The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save, <br />In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave. <br />Fair mourner, there see thy lov'd Leonard laid, <br />And o'er him spread the deep impervious shade. <br />Clos'd are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep <br />His senses bound in never-waking sleep, <br />Till time shall cease, till many a starry world <br />Shall fall from heav'n, in dire confusion hurl'd <br />Till nature in her final wreck shall lie, <br />And her last groan shall rend the azure sky: <br />Not, not till then his active soul shall claim <br />His body, a divine immortal frame. <br /> But see the softly-stealing tears apace <br />Pursue each other down the mourner's face; <br />But cease thy tears, bid ev'ry sigh depart, <br />And cast the load of anguish from thine heart: <br />From the cold shell of his great soul arise, <br />And look beyond, thou native of the skies; <br />There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind <br />Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind. <br />Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night <br />To join for ever on the hills of light: <br />To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves <br />To thee, the partner of his earthly loves; <br />He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin'd, <br />And better suited to th' immortal mind.<br /><br />Phillis Wheatley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-lady-on-the-death-of-her-husband/
