■204 
Lite’s setting sun had merged from that dark cloud 
Which veil’d its noontide beam. Her faith and hope 
Had found sure anchorage, and she appear’d 
To grow in meetness for a better world. 
One tie, with strength almost unlawful, bound 
Her soul to earth; she had one idol left: 
True it was hidden in her heart of hearts; 
But He, whose eye pierces that sanctuary, 
Beheld it shrin’d where He alone should be; 
Beheld, and frown’d. He did prepare a worm, 
Which smote the gourd she had too fondly prized, 
And soon it droop’d. To speak without a figure, 
Her son, her only son, fell sick and died. 
’T were vain to tell thee how, with almost more 
Than mother’s love, she nurs’d him in his sickness; 
Night saw her at her post, and early dawn; 
Nature in her seem’d changed, for food, sleep, rest, 
Appear’d no longer needful to sustain 
Th’ animal life. How Ion" this might have been 
’T were hard to say; but fever did its work 
Swiftly and surely; on the fourteenth day 
He lay a lifeless corpse, and she became 
A childless mother ! 
