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268 SONNETS.
XXIII.
ON HIS DECEASED WIFE.
Meth ought I faw my late efpoufed faint
Brought to me like Alceftis from the grave,
Whom Jove's great fon to her glad hufband gave,
Refcued from death by force, though pale and faint.
Mine, as whom wafh'd from fpot of child-bed taint
Purification in the old law did fave,
And fuch, as yet once more I truft to have
Full fight of her in Heav'n without reftraint,
Came vetted all in white, pure as her mind :
Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied fight
Love, fweetnefs, goodnefs, in her perfon fhin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me the inclin'd,
I wak'd, flie fled, and day brought back my night.