Hang a lost member’s fiddle and its bow;
That still reminds them how he’d dance and play,
Ere sent untimely to the Convicts’ Bay.
Here by a curtain, by a blanket there,
Are various beds conceal’d, but none with care;
Where some by day and some by night, as best
Suit their employments, seek uncertain rest;
The drowsy children at their pleasure creep
To the known crib, and there securely sleep.
Each end contains a grate, and these beside