Full on that cherish’d scion burst.
Unknown his fate.—No parent nigh,
My boy! my first-born! didst thou die?
Or did they spare thee for a life
Of shame, of rapine, and of strife?
Livest thou, unfriended, unallied,
A wanderer lost, without a guide?
Oh! to thy fate’s mysterious gloom
Blest were the darkness of the tomb!
“Ella! ’tis done—my guilty heart