178v [=138v]
Facsimile
Transcription
Status: Complete
192
Thy wand fair Sleep lies broken on the ground,
Thy scatter'd Poppies drooping all around
Through my torn Breast, Convulsive Agonies
O'er ev'ry Nerve, and finer Fibre flies..
Aid Heav'n! Oh! Father send Thy Heav'nly Breath
Of Power! to raise me from the couch of Death
Oh! send one Vital, one Restoring Air
That Breath oh! Lord! thy Praise shall ever declare.
The last lines were hardly legible
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