From a poet to a clergyman

Since I am singing the praises of letters, is not this one beautiful? It is a letter from the poet Thomas Gray (1716-71) to William Mason. This is quoted from A Literature Collection, compiled by Mary Batchelor.

William Mason (1725-97),  English clergyman and poet, was a friend of the poet Gray. Mason published this letter because, he said, 'it then breathed, and still seems to breathe, the very voice of friends ...'

I break in upon you at a moment, when we least of all are permitted to disturb our friends, only to say, that you are daily and hourly present to my thoughts. If the worst be not yet past, you will neglect and pardon me; but if the last struggle be over, if the poor object of your long anxieties be no longer sensible of your kindness, or to her own sufferings, allow me (at least in idea, for what could I do more, were I present, more than this?) to sit by you in silence, and pity from my heart not her, who is at rest, but you, who lost her. May He, who made us, the master of our pleasures and of our pains, preserve and support you! Adieu.