Explore "To a Lady on the Death of her Husband" by Phillis Wheatley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Grim monarch! see, depriv'd of vital breath, / A young physician in the dust of death: / Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, / Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy?
Enough thou never yet wast known to say, / Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: / Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, / Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move.