ON THE Sudden Death of a FRIEND. Ann Yearsley (née Cromartie) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. N22108 Yearsley, Ann, 1753-1806. Poems, on several occasions. By Ann Yearsley, a milkwoman of Bristol [poems only]. The second edition. London printed for T. Cadell, in the Strand 1785 pp. 43-45. xxxii, 127p.

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ON THE Sudden Death of a FRIEND . " Appear , thou sightless Minister of Death , " Go seek the spot where guiltless joys reside , " Seize Delia's frame , suspend at once her breath , " And from its long-lov'd home the wond'ring soul divide . " Be deaf to all , nor heed the plaintive moan " Of weeping husband , parent , child , or friend , " 'Tis my high will that she attend my throne , " Where flow those perfect joys which never shall have end . " So spake th'Omnipotent . The spirit heard , With azure pinions veil'd he skims the air , The heavenly regions quickly disappear'd , He , unperceiv'd , alights beside the happy pair . Amaz'd he view'd this seat of humble love , Content and joy in every breast elate , One moment mourn'd his errand from above ; While mid' the cheerful group the thoughtless victim sate . With eye askance he aims the deadly blow , Nor dares to look while he directs the dart ; No more her cheeks with purple blushes glow , But all the spirits rush to guard the fainting heart . In vain , in vain ! the heart refuses aid , An iron slumber seals her heavy eyes ; She sinks in death — th'astonish'd soul , dismay'd , Bursts thro' the doors of life , and seeks more friendly skies . Hail , Spirit , disengag'd from cumbrous clay ! Let not our tears retard thy blissful flight ; The sigh dissolves in faith ; pursue thy way , 'Till Heaven's full joys shall open on thy ravish'd sight . O , Thyrsis ! raise thy low declining head , Nor sink beneath this mighty weight of woe , Mourn not thy love , nor think thy Delia dead ; She lives where boundless joys shall ever , ever flow .