We clasp thy knees, and bid thee spare
The babes that laughed upon thy knee!
ANTISTROPHE II.
They are thy children! They will call
Aloud, aloud upon their mother!
How can’st thou hear that pleading cry?
In vain thou striv’st:—thou can’st not smother
A mother’s love. Thy hand will shake;
Thy heart will bend; thy heart will break,
Thy frenzy melt away and die,