Henry Kirke White - The Bitter Cup lyrics

Yes, it will be over soon.--This sickly dream Of life will vanish from my feverish brain; And d**h my wearied spirit will redeem From this wild region of unvaried pain. Yon brook will glide as softly as before, Yon landscape smile,--yon golden harvest grow, Yon sprightly lark on mounting wing will soar When Henry's name is heard no more below. I sigh when all my youthful friends caress, They laugh in health, and future evils brave; Them shall a wife and smiling children bless, While I am mouldering in my silent grave. God of the just, Thou gavest the bitter cup; I bow to Thy behest, and drink it up.