There, under a wide Oak, disconsolate,
And drown'd in Tears, a mournful Widow sat.
High in the Boughs the murder'd Father hung;
Beneath, the Children round their Mother clung;
They cry'd for Food, but 'twas without Relief;
For all they had to live upon, was Grief:
A Sorrow so intense, such deep Despair,
No Creature meerly Human, long cou'd bear.
First in her Arms her weeping Babes she took,
And with a Groan, did to her Husband look!
Then lean'd her Head on their's, and sighing cry'd,
! and dy'd.