"'Tis he, my Son, alone shall cheer
"Thy sick'ning soul; at that sad hour,
"When o'er a much-lov'd Parent's bier
"Thy duteous Sorrows shower:
At that sad hour; when all thy hopes decline;
When pining Care leads on her pallid train,
And sees thee, like the weak, and widow'd Vine,
Winding thy blasted tendrils o'er the plain.
At that sad hour shall D'ARCY lend his aid,
And raise with friendship's arm thy drooping head.