That flutter is the gasp of death!
As conscious of it's nest,
It breathes to her its parting breath,
And falls upon her breast!

Weep not sweet nymph, with vain regret,
Your favourite's lifeless state;
But rather think that it has met
An enviable fate.

Yes! to this gentle bird indeed,
It's mercy Heaven has shewn;
And in it's end you now may read
An emblem of your own.

When you, dear nymph, have suffer'd all
Your share of earthly woe;
O may that portion be as small
As mortal e'er may know!

Close in a death, like infant's rest,
Those heaven-reflecting eyes;
And dropping on an angel's breast,
Be wafted to the skies!


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