University of Virginia Library

Encanting smiler, gentle be thy rest;
The softest pillow is thy parent's breast:
There mayst thou sleep secure from all alarms,
There find life's calmest cradle in her arms;
There—whilst the world tumultuous raves around,
While Pride and Meanness right and wrong confound,
While blust'ring passions half mankind deform,
Soft mayst thou lie unconscious of the storm.
And, Oh! sweet cherub, happy is thy state,
Beyond the strange reverse of future fate:
Too soon, alas! thy pleasures will be o'er,
Too soon what pleases now, will please no more;
Nought equal to the present wilt thou know,
For pains and miseries strengthen as we grow.
Trouble on troubles croud each rising year.
Heave the sad bosom and extort the tear.
Soon will th' amusements of thy childhood fly,
And other trifles court thy wondering eye—
Ah then, dear babe, enjoy the happiest hour
That Youth and Fortune put within thy power.
Thy heaviest sorrows, now soon find relief,
Transient thy tears, and transient is thy grief.
But soon as trusted from thy mother's arm,
Soon as the toy and rattle lose their charm,
When reason dawns upon thy opening mind,
Then wilt thou see the fate of woman kind:
Passions will rise and strengthen with thy age,
And fools in every shape thy heart engage;
The flutt'ring fop thy vanity address,
This moment compliment, the next caress:
The cautious traitor will thy glass attend,
And herds of coxcombs round thy toilet bend:
When lovers praise the light'ning of thine eye,
Then, then beware—suspect a serpent nigh:
With prudence hear the pretty things they say,
Nor rashly throw thy happiness away.
Oft, ere you change a modest maiden life,
Maturely weigh the business of a wife;
Better, far better, you should live unwed,
Than lead a fool or villain to thy bed.
Perpetual curses wait divided hearts;
Love, mutual love, the mutual bliss imparts:
And, Oh! what agony attends the wife,
Who drags her being through continual strife!
Condemn'd to bathe the wretched couch with tears,
To fret, and tremble, with a thousand fears!
Condemn'd, unthank'd, for many a year to drudge
And dread a husband, as thieves dread a judge;
A prey to every matrimonial care,
Even till she begs for death to ease despair!
But heaven, on thee soft innocent bestow
A lighter burthen of terrestial woe;
May Fortune look more smiling on thy youth,
And Sense endear to thee the paths of Truth;
Then shalt thou well repay a mother's care,
And of thy sex be fairest of the fair.

Sweet state of childhood, unallay'd by woe,
The truest period of our bliss below:
Nature presides the guardian of the scene,
And all is gentle, genuine, and serene.
Soon as we leave the soft maternal breast,
'Tis a struggling warfare at the best:
Farewel, a long farewel to peace of mind,
For woes on woes unnumbered croud behind.

Thus the kind mother of the plumy brood,
When first she brings her infants to the wood,
Warms them assiduous, with her shelt'ring breast,
And lines with whitest wool her downy nest;
Outspreads her pinions to their utmost stretch,
And curtains round each leaf within her reach;
But soon as trusted to the dangerous sky,
And for themselves to shift they rashly try,
Full many a peril in their way they meet,
Full often languish for their lost retreat;
The snare or school-boy every joy invade,
The parent dies, and saddens all the shade.