One, once in features, as in blood, like thee,
On skies of azure blue and waters green,
Melting to mist amid the summer sheen,
In trouble gazing—ever hesitating
'Twixt miseries each hour new dread creating,
And joys—whate'er they cost—still doubly dear,
Those "troubled pleasures soon chastised by fear;"
If thou had'st seen him, thou would'st ne'er believe
That thou had'st yet known what it was to live!
'Thine eyes could only see thy mother's breast;