Him self-reproach tormented; sorely tried
By threats, he mourn’d, and by disease, he died.
As weak as wailing infancy or age,
How could the widow with the world engage?
Fortune not now the means of comfort gave,
Yet all her comforts Harriet wept to have.
“My helpless babes,” she said, “will nothing know,”
Yet not a single lesson would bestow;
Her debts would overwhelm her, that was sure,
But one privation would she not endure. 190