Or with my prayers the pow'rs above comply;
For you my gratitude will never end—
Pray let us hope to see you as a friend.
THEN Clytia took her leave, and gave her hand;
A proof his love no more she would withstand.
He kissed and bathed her fingers with his tears;
The second day grim death confirmed their fears:
THE mourning lasted long and mother's grief;
But days and months at length bestowed relief;
No wretchedness so great, we may depend,