 | The triumph of music |  |
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Tho' none discern'd the misery's extent;
Or thought it, though oppressive to the breath,
A source of slow and agonizing death:
But ling'ring anguish, thus by Heaven ordain'd,
That brave angelic child so well sustain'd;
With thoughts at once so tender, and elate,
He sooth'd the mental suff'rers in his fate,
With hope, yet inextinct in reason's spite,
His father watch'd his pangs;—heart-piercing sight!
Till darkling roll'd the heaven-directed eye,
He still sustain'd to see his darling die.
That awful moment past, his sinking mind
With deep despondence, and distraction blind,
No more could bear to search the waste of life.
The softer mother, with less mental strife,
Felt grief more deadly;—said, “God's will be done!”
Yet in the skies soon join'd her angel-son.
| The triumph of music | |