A Complaint

Tell me thou all pervading mind, When I this life forsake, Must ev'ry tender tie unbind, Each sweet connection break?

How shall I leave thee, oh! my love, And blooming progeny? If I without thee mount above, 'Twill be no heav'n to me.

Ah! when beneath the arching vault My lifeless form's remov'd, Let not oblivion sink the thought, How much, how long I lov'd.

Come oft my grassy tomb to see, And drop thy sorrows there; No balmy dews of heav'n shall be Refreshing as thy tear.

There give thy griefs full vent to flow O'er the unconscious dead, With no spectator to thy woe But my attendant shade.