II.

And thou grim pow'r, by life abhorr'd, While life a pleasure can afford, Oh! hear a wretch's prayer! No more I shrink appall'd, afraid; I court, I beg thy friendly aid, To close this scene of care! When shall my soul, in silent peace, Resign life's joyless day; My weary heart its throbbings cease, Cold mould'ring in the clay? No fear more, no tear more, To stain my lifeless face; Enclasped, and grasped Within thy cold embrace!

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