POEMS.
GRAVE OF THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON.
Mother of him whose godlike fame
The good throughout the world revere,
Ah! why, without a stone, or name,
Thus sleep'st thou unregarded here?
Fair pensile branches o'er thee wave,
And Nature decks the chosen dell;
Yet surely o'er thy hallow'd grave
A nation's mournful sighs should swell!
Rome, with a burst of filial pride,
The mother of her Gracchi view'd;
And why should we restrain the tide
Of reverential gratitude?
