ish adds its woe;
the pyful pair crowd fondly by thy side;
ah! helpless nurslings, who will now provide
that life a mother only bestow!
oft as by winding nith i, musing, wait
the sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn,
i'll miss thee sp o'er the dewy wn,
and curse the ruffian's aim, and mourn thy hapless fate.