Uploader's Comments

Dearest of husbands whose fair life records
What honour love or virtue best affords
To me beyond compare dearest of dears
Sleeps in this Tomb, his soul above the spheres
Is winged aloft, whilst I in sable sit
Sighing till mine also consort with it.
But Ah! What rhetoric can express my loss
Thou wearest the Crown, Di, must wear the cross.
Only thy presence can afford relief
To this sad heart oppressed thus with grief;
That were a sovereign cordial:
but thy Di Must rest contented with thy Memory.
Nay, Death itself shall us never part
For my dear George still lives in Di's chaste heart.
Vain world farewell, dead to delight am I
Till my dear George embrace his own dear Di
In those Elysian fields, whose Purest Bliss
And Sharon’s rose sweet Jesus is.
Rest precious soul whilst I do weep and pray
And waite and long for thrice glorious day.
Love no delay admits, let me aspire,
I live in patience, but dye in desire.