Skip to main content
Author

When shall my wretched life give place to death?
That my sad cares may be enforc’d to leave me.
Come, saddest shadow, stop my vital breath,
For I am thine, then let not care bereave thee
Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fatal dart,
Kill care and me, while care lies at my heart.

Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.