When stretched on Fever's sleepless bed,

And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins,

"'Tis comfort still," I faintly said,[an]

"That Thyrza cannot know my pains:"

Like freedom to the time-worn slave—[ao]

A boon 'tis idle then to give—

Relenting Nature vainly gave[32]

My life, when Thyrza ceased to live!