Read thou, and judge my feelings as I read!
Then will you learn why thus, from day to day,
Hopeless I grieve and weep my Hours away.
My Boy afflicts me, when he dares not ask,
Where is he gone, and sees I wear a Mask.
He reads my Looks; he saddens at my Sigh,
And fears alike my Silence and Reply.
My Girl, yet younger, wonders at my Woes
And seems to question whence the Grief arose.
The very Infant takes a solemn tone 260