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RECORDS OF WOMAN.
THE MEMORIAL PILLAR.
Hast thou, thro' Eden's wild-wood vales pursued
Each mountain-scene, magnificently rude,
Nor with attention's lifted eye, revered
That modest stone, by pious Pembroke rear'd,
Which still records, beyond the pencil's power,
The silent sorrows of a parting hour?
Rogers.
Mother and child! whose blending tears
Have sanctified the place,
Where, to the love of many years.
Was given one last embrace;
Oh! ye have shrin'd a spell of power.
Deep in your record of that hour!
