Page:Poems, in two volumes (IA poemsintwovolume01word).pdf/58

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

46

Seven years, alas, to have receivedNo tidings of an only child;To have despair'd, and have believ'd,And be for evermore beguil'd;Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss!I catch at them, and then I miss;Was ever darkness like to this?
He was among the prime in worth,An object beauteous to behold;Well born, well bred; I sent him forthIngenuous, innocent, and bold:If things ensued that wanted grace,As hath been said, they were not base;And never blush was on my face.
Ah! little doth the Young One dream,When full of play and childish cares,What power hath even his wildest scream,Heard by his Mother unawares!
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.