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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
And childhood's fragile image
Thus fearfully enshrin'd,
Survives the proud memorials rear'd
By conquerors of mankind.
Babe! wert thou brightly slumbering
Upon thy mother's breast,
When suddenly the fiery tomb
Shut round each gentle guest?
A strange dark fate o'ertook you,
Fair babe and loving heart!
One moment of a thousand pangs—
Yet better than to part!
Haply of that fond bosom,
On ashes here impress'd,
Thou wert the only treasure, child!
Whereon a hope might rest.
