The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey | ||
Was there no sinking at the mother's heart,
When, all equipt, they turned them to depart?
When down the lane she watched them as they went,
Till out of sight, was no forefeeling sent
Of coming ill? In truth I cannot tell:
Such warnings have been sent, we know full well,
And must believe—believing that they are—
In mercy then—to rouse—restrain—prepare.
When, all equipt, they turned them to depart?
When down the lane she watched them as they went,
Till out of sight, was no forefeeling sent
Of coming ill? In truth I cannot tell:
Such warnings have been sent, we know full well,
And must believe—believing that they are—
In mercy then—to rouse—restrain—prepare.
The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey | ||