——What!—have all fled?—and art thou left alone?—
By those who wandered with thee on the beach,
In the fair sun-light of a summer's morn,
Forgotten thus! Had'st thou a mother, sweet?
Oh, no—no—no! She had not turn'd away,
Though the strong tempest rose to tenfold wrath,—
She had not fled without thee,—had not breath'd
In safety or at ease save when she heard
Thy murmur'd tone beside her,—had not slept
Until thy drench'd and drooping curls were dried