Classic Poem

The hour-bell sounds, and I must go:
Death waits! — again I hear him calling.
No cowardly desires have I,
Nor will I shun his face appalling.
I die in faith and honours rich,
But, ah! I leave behind my treasure
In widowhood and lonely pain —
To live were surely then a pleasure!

My lifeless eyes upon thy face
Shall never open more tomorrow —
Tomorrow shall thy beauteous eyes
Be closed to love, and drowned in sorrow.
Tomorrow Death shall freeze this hand,
And on thy breast, my wedded treasure!
I never, never more shall live —
Alas! I quit a life of pleasure!