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Seven years, alas, to have received
To have despair'd, and have believ'd,
Sometimes with thoughts of very bliss!
I catch at them, and then I miss
Was ever darkness like to this?
He was among the prime in worth,
An object beauteous to behold;
Well born, well bred; I sent him forth
If things ensued that wanted grace,
Ah! little doth the Young One dream,
What power hath even his wildest scream,
He knows it not, he cannot guess:
But do not make her love the less.
Neglect me! no I suffer'd long
As ever breathed:" and that is true;
My Son, if thou be humbled, poor,
Alas! the fowls of Heaven have wings,
Perhaps some dungeon hears thee groan,
Or hast been summoned to the Deep,
I look for Ghosts; but none will force
way to me; 'tis falsely said
That there was ever intercourse
Betwixt the living and the dead;
For, surely, then I should have sight Of Him I wait for day and night, With love and longings infinite.
My apprehensions come in crowds;
Beyond participation lie
My troubles, and beyond relief: