Verses Written on her Death-Bed at Bath

Mary Monck

1677 to 1715

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He brings thy mourning image to my eyes, 
And would obstruct my journey to the skies. 
Th' eternal scenes of heav'n he sets in view, 
Thou know'st a painful pilgrimage I've past; 
And shews that all life's fleeting joys are vain. 
But say, thou dearest, thou unwearied friend; 
Thou tend'rest husband, and thou best of friends, 
Say, should'st thou grieve to see my sorrows end? 
Thou, who dost all my worldly thoughts employ, 
But love, fond love, would yet resist his pow'r; 
He promises a lasting rest from pain; 
Thou pleasing source of all my earthly joy: 
And should'st thou grieve that rest is come at last? 
And tells me that no other joys are true. 
To thee this first, this last adieu I send. 
Rather rejoice to see me shake off life, 
He wooes me to him with a chearful grace; 
At length the conqu'ror death asserts his right, 
Would fain awhile defer the parting hour: 
And die as I have liv'd, thy faithful wife. 
And will for ever veil me from thy sight. 
And not one terror clouds his meagre face.