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Untitled Article
Memory on memory of imagin ed wrong , As I should have done too , —a £ all who live ;—And yet I cannot pity thee : —so well I know the end , and how thou'lt smile hereafter .
She speaks my name at last , as though she fear'd The terrible , familiar sound ; and sinks In sobs upon my bosom . Hold me fast , Hold me fast , sweet , and from the extreme grow calm , ~ Me , cruelly unmov'd , and yet how loving !
How wrong I was to quarrel with poor James ! And how dear Francis mistook me ! That pride , How without ground it was ! Those arguments , Which I suppos ed so final , oh how foolish ! Yet gentlest Death will not permit rebuke , Ev ' n of one ' s-self . They'll know all as I know , When they lie thus .
Colder I grow , and happier . Warmness and sense are drawing to a point , Ere they depart ;—myself quitting myself . The soul gathers its wings , upon the edge Of the new world , yet how assuredly I
Oh ! how in balm I change ! actively will d , . Yet passive , quite ; and feeling opppsites mingle In exquisitest peace !—Those fleshly clothes , Which late I thought myself , He more and more Apart from this warm , sweet , retreating me , Who am as a hand , withdrawing from a glove .
So lay my mother : so my father : so My children : yet I pitied them . I wept , And fancied them in graves , and calFd them " poor !" O graves ! O tears ! O knowledge , will , and time , And fear , and hopes I what petty terms of earth Were ye ! yet how I love ye , as of earth , The planet ' s household words ; and how postpone , Till out of these dear arms , th immeasurable
Tongue of the all-possessmg smile eternal I Ah , not excluding these , nor aught that ' s past , Nor aught that ' s present , nor that ' s yet to come , Well waited for . I would not stir a finger Out of this rest , to re-assure all anguish ; Such warrant hath it ; such divine conjuncture ; Such a charm binds it with the needs of bliss .
That was my eldest boy ' s—that kiss . And that The baby with its little unweening mouth ; And those—and those—Dear hearts ! they have all come , And think me dead—me , who so know I ' m living ' , The vitallest creature in this fleshly room . I part ; and with my spirit ' s eyes , full open'd , Will look upon them . ( Spirit parts from the body , and kisses them all round . )
Untitled Article
213 Reflections of a Dead Body .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Sept. 1, 1837, page 218, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1835/page/74/
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