The gentle Daughters of Devotion sleep.
No stings of Conscience goad their easy Breast,
No unrepented Crimes their Slumbers fright,
No mournful Dreams invade their peaceful Rest
Nor shrouded Spectres stalk afore their sight!
Th’ endearing scenes of Life They all forego
Ev’n Hymen’s Torch for Them must never blaze,
The Husband’s fond Embrace They ne’er shall know,
Nor view their Image in their Children’s Face.
Oft did they steal the flow’ry Robe of May