W. B.
Seven years after her mother’s death, (1791,) she addressed to her memory the following sonnet.
ON VISITING CROMER FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE DEATH
OF MY MOTHER, WITH WHOM I USED FREQUENTLY TO VISIT IT.
Scenes of my childhood, where, to grief unknown,
And, led by Gaiety, I joy’d to rove,
’Ere in my breast Care fix’d her ebon throne,
And her pale rue, with Fancy’s roses wove.
No more, alas! your wonted charms I view,
Ye speak of comforts I can know no more;