Page:Poems, in two volumes (IA poemsintwovolume00word).pdf/33
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Ah! see her helpless Charge! enclos'dWithin himself, as seems; compos'd;To fear of loss, and hope of gain,The strife of happiness and pain,Utterly dead! yet, in the guiseOf little Infants, when their eyesBegin to follow to and froThe persons that before them go,He tracks her motions, quick or slow.Her buoyant Spirit can prevailWhere common cheerfulness would fail:She strikes upon him with the heatOf July Suns; he feels it sweet;An animal delight though dim!'Tis all that now remains for him!
I look'd, I scann'd her o'er and o'er;The more I look'd I wonder'd more:When suddenly I seem'd to espyA trouble in her strong black eye;