But she shrank
From social intercourse, nor took her seat
Even in the House of God, lest prying eyes
Should gloat upon her downfall. Books, nor work
Enticed her, and the lov'd piano's tone
Waking sad echoes of the days that were,
She seem'd to shun. Her joy was in her child.
The chief delight and solace of her life
To adorn his dress, and trim his shining curls,
Dote on his beauty, and conceal his faults,