Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Thysia: An Elegy
But plain-set anguish of the breast or brow Say that on earth I sang to her alone, But now, while in her heaven She Sits divine, Turning, I tell the world my bitter moan, Bidding it Share its hopes and griefs with mine, Versing not what I would, but what I must, Wail of the wind, or sobbing of the wave Ah say you raised my bowed head from the dust, And held me backward from a wilful grave Say this, and her sweet pity will approve, And bind yet closer her dear bond of love.
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