And gave a look—until my dying-day,
That look will never from my mind away;
Oft as I sit, and ever in my dreams,
I see that look, and they have heard my screams.
"Now let me speak no more—yet all declared
That one so young, in pity should be spared,
And one so manly;—on his graceful neck,
That chains of jewels may be proud to deck,
300
To a small mole a mother's lips have press'd—