Those cherubs still, my life to bless,
Were left; could I my fears remove,
Sad fears that checked each fond caress,
And poison'd all parental love?
Yet that with jealous feelings strove,
And would at last have won my will,
Had I not, wretch! been doom'd to prove
Th' extremes of mortal good and ill.
140
In youth! health! joy! in beauty's pride!