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Poems

Yet, gentle shade! whether thou now does rove,
Thro' some blest vale, or ever verdant grove,
One moment listen to my grief and take
The softest vows that ever love can make.
For thee, all thoughts of pleasure I forgo,
For Thee, my tears shall never cease to flow;
For thee at once I from the world retire,
To feed in silent shades a hopeless fire.
My bosom all thy image shall retain,
The full impression there shall still remain
As thou has taught my tender heart to prove
The noblest height and elegance of love,
That sacred passion I to thee confine.
My spotless faith shall be for ever thine.

.....from Upon the Death of Her Husband by Elizabeth Singer Rowe (1674-1737)