Poems (Nealds)/To Death

by Adeline Martha Nealds

TO DEATH.

Friend of the wretched, why so long delay
 To give my heart thy kind unerring stroke?
What now on earth can make me wish to stay,
 Since ev'ry tie which bound me there is broke!

How all is chang'd in one short fleeting year!
 No friend, no parent, now remain for me;
No lover kind, to chase the falling tear:
 Nought now is left but endless misery.

Cease, mem'ry, cease, nor rack my tortur'd breast,
 With thoughts of joy beyond recovery fled;
On earth no peace I find, and ne'er shall rest,
 Till I am number'd with the silent dead.