Nahum Tate: Poetry
When I am laid in earth
Thy hand, belinda, darkness shades me.
On thy bosom let me rest.
More I would, but death invades me.
Death is now a welcome guest.
When I am laid in earth, may my wrongs create
No trouble in thy breast.
Remember me, but ah! forget my fate.
(From Dido and Aeneas, an opera composed by Henry Purcell in 1681)
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