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SONNETTO MY ELDEST BOY, ON HIS TENDERLY INQUIRING WHY I SO OFTEN LOOKED UNHAPPY.
My darling boy, oft with inquiring eye
I mark thee gazing on my thoughtful brow;
And oft thou say'st, "dear mother do not sigh!
What is it makes thee so unhappy now?
I cannot bear to see thee look so sad."
Dear Charles, I have not much to make me glad,
For cold neglect has dealt her deadly wound,
Where I expected kindness to have found.
Oh much my gentle boy I've had to learn!
But I, and thy dear Father, now can spurn,
The sunshine friends who, in a prosp'rous hour,
Did flock around us, and were fain to pour
Upon us gifts they knew we needed not;
But now, they seem that time to have forgot.
I mark thee gazing on my thoughtful brow;
And oft thou say'st, "dear mother do not sigh!
What is it makes thee so unhappy now?
I cannot bear to see thee look so sad."
Dear Charles, I have not much to make me glad,
For cold neglect has dealt her deadly wound,
Where I expected kindness to have found.
Oh much my gentle boy I've had to learn!
But I, and thy dear Father, now can spurn,
The sunshine friends who, in a prosp'rous hour,
Did flock around us, and were fain to pour
Upon us gifts they knew we needed not;
But now, they seem that time to have forgot.
