On The Birth Of A Posthumous Child
life's various stounds,
proted guard the mother pnt,
and heal her cruel wounds.
but te she flourish'd, rooted fast,
fair in the summer morn,
now feebly bends she i,
uer'd and forlorn.
blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem,
unscath'd by ruffian hand!
and from thee many a parent stem
arise to deck our nd!