Death at the End.
Would I were dead and lying in my grave,1
At rest from fretting doubts and carking cares,2
Be kind, oh Heaven, and listen to my prayers ;3
Grant me the only favour that I crave—4
Six feet by three of earth to hide my dust :5
I ask no tombstone or memorial bust ;6
I ask for death ; what is beyond I’ll brave.7
Little of good or evil have I wrought ;8
No happiness or pleasure have I known9
But it hath been with sorrow intersown ;10
All hath slipt from my grasp that I most sought.11
My life, though short in years, is long in grief ;12
Night follows day, but brings me no relief,13
And passing years have only sorrow brought.14
There is one goal to which our courses tend ;15
The way lies over mountains, torrents, plains,16
Through velvet pastures and quiet country lanes :17
To some the pleasant scenes enjoyment lend,18
While others weary toil up rocky slopes19
Dejectedly, and almost void of hopes.20
But one fate waits for all—Death at the End.21