[5]
Io her what are the world's delights,
while there her lord is laid?
To lull his anguiſh, calm his mind,
and hand the healing doſe,
Was all her care: For this ſhe pin'd;
for this the loſt repoſe.
At length her pious care prevail'd,
to quell the fierce diſeaſe———
Might he but live, whate'er elſe fail'd,
ſhe reck'd not; pain would pleaſe———
Ah me! what tidings do I hear?
"ſhe ſickens, faints, and dies:
"Outworn with watching, grief, and fear,
"ſhe falls a ſacrifice."
Huſh! hide the woeful chance, look gay,
and cloſeſt ſilience keep;
Or ſmiling, ſpite of ſorrow, ſay,
"the lady is aſleep."
Say ſo next day, try ev'ry art———
but ev'ry art is vain;
Prolong'd ſuſpence, the wiſhing heart
refuſeth to ſuſtain.
"Where is Maria dear," he cries,
"my charmer, where is ſhe,
"Whoſe looks were wont to cheer my eyes?
ː
"why doth ſhe fly from me?
"Go, bring her; ſay poor Sutherland,
"bereav'd of her, muſt die:
"Make haſte—why do ye ſpeechleſs ſtand;
"what means that ſudden ſigh?
