Page:Memoir and poems of Phillis Wheatley, a native African and a slave.djvu/141

Rh Worst of all, must hope grow dim,

And withhold her cheering beam?

Rather let me sleep and dream

Forever!

Something still my heart surveys,

Groping through this dreary maze;

Is it Hope?—then burn and blaze

Forever!

Leave me not a wretch confined,

Altogether lame and blind—

Unto gross despair consigned,

Forever!

Heaven! in whom can I confide?

Canst thou not for all provide?

Condescend to be my guide

Forever!

And when this transient life shall end,

Oh, may some kind, eternal friend

Bid me from servitude ascend,

Forever!

E'en John the Baptist did not know

Who Christ the Lord could be,