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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=478659" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To His Honour The Lieutenant-Governor, On The Death Of His Lady Marc 24, 1773</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ALL-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r,<br>Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more!<br>Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly,<br>Forget their splendors, and submit to die!<br>Who ere escap'd thee, but the saint * of old<br>Beyond the flood in sacred annals told,<br>And the great sage, + whom fiery coursers drew<br>To heav'n's bright portals from Elisha's view;<br>Wond'ring he gaz'd at the refulgent car,<br>Then snatch'd the mantle floating on the air.<br>From Death these only could exemption boast,<br>And without dying gain'd th' immortal coast.<br>Not falling millions sate the tyrant's mind,<br>Nor can the victor's progress be confin'd.<br>But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease:<br>He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> * Enoch. + Elijah.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His to conduct to the immortal plains,<br>Where heav'n's Supreme in bliss and glory reigns.<br> There sits, illustrious Sir, thy beauteous spouse;<br>A gem-blaz'd circle beaming on her brows.<br>Hail'd with acclaim among the heav'nly choirs,<br>Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires,<br>To notes divine she tunes the vocal strings,<br>While heav'n's high concave with the music rings.<br>Virtue's rewards can mortal pencil paint?<br>No--all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint;<br>Nor canst thou, Oliver, assent refuse<br>To heav'nly tidings from the Afric muse.<br> As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate,<br>As the saint miss the glories I relate;<br>Or her Benevolence forgotten lie,<br>Which wip'd the trick'ling tear from Misry's eye.<br>Whene'er the adverse winds were known to blow,<br>When loss to loss * ensu'd, and woe to woe,<br>Calm and serene beneath her father's hand<br>She sat resign'd to the divine command.<br> No longer then, great Sir, her death deplore,<br>And let us hear the mournful sigh no more,<br>Restrain the sorrow streaming from thine eye,<br>Be all thy future moments crown'd with joy!<br>Nor let thy wishes be to earth confin'd,<br>But soaring high pursue th' unbodied mind.<br>Forgive the muse, forgive th' advent'rous lays,<br>That fain thy soul to heav'nly scenes would raise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Phillis+Wheatley">Phillis Wheatley</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=478659" data-title="To His Honour The Lieutenant-Governor, On The Death Of His Lady Marc 24, 1773 de Phillis Wheatley" data-description="ALL-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r, Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more! Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly, Forget their splendors, and submit to die! Who ere escap'd thee, but the saint * of old Beyond the flood in sa..."></div> </div> </div>
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