The picture of my lost prosperity,
When round my side my loving children drew
And from my happy home my steps were hail'd
Where'er I went. The fatherless and poor,
And he who had no helper, welcomed me
As one to right their wrongs, and pluck the spoil
From the oppressor's teeth. Pale widows raised
The glistening eye of gratitude, and they
Whose sight was quench'd, at my remembered tones
Pour'd blessings on me. Overflowing wealth