Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/538

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WILLIAM BROOME

447.
Belinda's Recovery from Sickness
Thus when the silent grave becomes
Pregnant with life as fruitful wombs;
When the wide seas and spacious earth
Resign us to our second birth;
Our moulder'd frame rebuilt assumes
New beauty, and for ever blooms,
And, crown'd with youth's immortal pride,
We angels rise, who mortals died.

1700–1748

448.
On the Death of a particular Friend
As As those we love decay, we die in part,
String after string is sever'd from the heart;
Till loosen'd life, at last but breathing clay,
Without one pang is glad to fall away.

Unhappy he who latest feels the blow!
Whose eyes have wept o'er every friend laid low,
Dragg'd ling'ring on from partial death to death,
Till, dying, all he can resign is—breath.

449.
Tell me, my Heart if this be Love
When Delia on the plain appears,
Awed by a thousand tender fears
I would approach, but dare not move:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?