When with a mother's joy, a mother's fear,
The thoughtful parent dropt the silent tear,
Gaz'd on her child, and saw new beauties rise,
Glow in her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes,
In expectation plann'd each hope of life,
The sister, daughter, mother, friend, and wife;
Ah fleeting joys! how soon those hopes were o'er!
We doom'd to mourn, and she to charm no more.
The waning moon shall fill her wasted horn,
And nature's radiance gild the orient morn,
The smiling spring with charms renew'd appear,
The sleeping blossoms haste to deck the year,
But bloom no more this fair departed flower,
Nor wak'd by genial sun, nor vernal shower.