His fearful doom thou canst not feel,
Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.
“That tender sense of infant grace,
(Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,
Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:
From pain and grief for ever free,
Thou canst not now his fall deplore,
Or pray for one that prays no more.
“Yet may thy last expiring prayer,
For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,