Which made the gen'rous sentinel conclude,
To bring his meat they would not fancy rude.

THIS done, the slave no longer was inclined
To follow Death, as soon she changed her mind.
Said she, good madam, pleasing thoughts I've got;
Don't you believe that, if you live or not,
'Tis to your husband ev'ry whit the same?
Had you gone first, would he have had the name
Of following to the grave as you design?
No, no, he'd to another course incline.
Long years of comfort we may clearly crave;
At twenty years it's surely wrong to brave
Both death and famine in a gloomy tomb
There's time enough to think of such a doom.
At best, too soon we die; do let us wait;
Here's nothing now at least to haste our fate.
In truth, I wish to see a good old age:
To bury charms like your's, would that be sage?
Of what advantage, I should wish to know,
To carry beauty to the shades below?
Those heavenly features make my bosom sigh,
To think from earthly praise they mean to fly.

THIS flatt'ry roused the beauteous widowed fair;
The god of soft persuasion soon was there,
And from his quiver in a moment drew
Two arrows keen, which from his bow-string flew;
With one he pierced the soldier to the heart,
The lady slightly felt the other dart.