Poems and other Pieces :: :: University of Virginia Library

Alas! my dearest baby,
I grieve to see thee smile;
I think upon thy rueful lot,
And cold's my heart the while.

'Gainst wind and tide of worldly woe,
I cannot make my way;
To lull thee in my bosom warm,
I feel I must not stay.

My mother will not hear me speak,
My father knits his brow:
Sweet Heavens! were they never young,
That thus they treat me so?

Ye souls unkind, a fate like mine
O never may ye prove!
Nor live to find how bitter 'tis
To miss the man ye love.

My friends they all forsake me
Nor comfort will afford;
They laugh while I am thinking,
My True-Love broke his word.

May God amend their cruel hearts,
For surely they're to blame;
They little know what 'tis to feel
The heaviness of shame.

Th' ungentle hand of rude mischance
Has 'reft my heart of rest,
And frighted hope of chearless eye
Lies strangled in my breast.

'Twas yester-eve at midnight hour,
I waked but to weep,
I kiss'd my baby's pretty hand,
And watch'd it while asleep:

Its cruel far-off father
My tender thoughts embraced,
And in my darling's infant look
His lovely likeness traced

With smileless look a spectre form
Advancing seem'd t' appear,
While Fancy toll'd the death-bell slow
Across my startled ear:

Full well I knew its fearful sound
That sternly seem'd to say,
“Go speed the grass green swerd
“For thou must die to day”—