300
Tixall Poetry.
Which we may every yeare
Find when we come to sojourne here.
Find when we come to sojourne here.
To Mrs E. T.
Saying She Could Not Be Affraide of My Ghost.
O that you were all voyce, and I all eare,
You nothing else but speake, I only heare,
When in such accents you so kind appeare.
You nothing else but speake, I only heare,
When in such accents you so kind appeare.
In such soft whispers, and so sweetly kind
Are messages convey'd to soules resign'd,
By angels, from the Great Eternal mind.
Are messages convey'd to soules resign'd,
By angels, from the Great Eternal mind.
If I were dead you would not feare my ghost!
The greatest favour I could ever boast
For all my services and labour lost.
The greatest favour I could ever boast
For all my services and labour lost.
