And there she sat in ripened loveliness,
An English mother; joying in her babes,
Whose life was bright before her, and whose lips
Were breaking into language, with the sweet
And loving sentences they learn so soon.
Her face was very beautiful, and mirth
Was native on her lip; but ever now
As a sweet tone delighted her, the smile
Went melting into sadness, and the lash
Drooped gently to her eye, as if it knew