Perhaps thou’lt take my lovely boy to thee—
O, can it be, my Father! can it be?
No—no—he must not die—thou wilt not take
Our treasure from our hearts—we are but three—
Thou wilt not this delightful union break—
O, spare him—spare our boy—for thine own mercy’s sake.
XX.
Last night, when fell delirium rack’d his brain,
He turn’d to me, and kiss’d me o’er and o’er;
Yes—yes—while tears ran down our cheeks like rain,