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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Lines To W. L. While He Sang A Song To Purcell`s Music
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While my young cheek retains its healthful hues,
     And I have many friends who hold me dear;
     L----! methinks, I would not often hear
Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose
All memory of the wrongs and sore distress,
     For which my miserable brethren weep!
     But should uncomforted misfortunes steep
My daily bread in tears and bitterness; 
And if at death`s dread moment I should lie,
     With no beloved face at my bed-side,
To fix the last glance of my closing-eye,
     Methinks, such strains, breathed by my angel-guide,
Would make me pass the cup of anguish by,
     Mix with the blest, nor know that I had died!
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