A prospect of death
Death! thou real friend of innocence,
Tho' dreadful unto shivering sense,
I feel my nature tottering o'er
Thy gloomy waves, which loudly roar:
Immense the scene, yet dark the view,
Nor Reason darts her vision thro'.
Virtue! supreme of earthly good,
Oh let thy rays illume the road;
And when dash'd from the precipice,
Keep me from sinking in the seas:
Thy radient wings, then wide expand,
And bear me to celestial land.