No fierce reproaches from deserted fair,
Mixed with wild tenderness of desperate prayer;
So hope rose softly in the parent’s breast; }
He, dying, called his son and fondly blest, }
Hailed the propitious tear, and mildly sunk to rest. }
Unhappy Youth! e’er yet the tomb was closed,
And dust to dust convey’d in peace repos’d,
He sought his father’s closet, search’d around,
To find a Will: the important Will was found. 60
Well pleased he read, “These lands, this manor, all,