11
Her mother's steps she follows close; to bind
Those wounds her mother made: divinely kind,
Into each troubled heart she pours her balm,
And brings the mind a transitory calm.
But both are mortal; and when fades the earth,
The nymph shall die, with her who gave her birth;
Then, to elysium Love shall wing his flight,
And he and Joy for ever re-unite.
F. D. B. aged 11.
ON THE 16th DECEMBER, BEING AS FINE AS MAY-DAY.
Unlike December's frown this gladsome day
Inspires my bosom, and invites my lay.
The sun meridian darting from on high,
Lights the gay scene, and brightens all the sky;
Soft rolls the glassy main; the lightsome breeze
Brings to my heart serenity and ease.
Here calmness reigns; nought but the lowing herds,
The waters falling, and the twittering birds,
Invade the ear; here, in this tranquil scene,
Far from the notice and the noise of men,
Here, could I peaceful live, nor breathe a sigh
For gayer views, and happy could I die.
