A Mother's Lament

FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON.
["The Mother's Lament," says the poet, in a copy of the verses now
before me, "was composed partly with a view to Mrs. Fergusson of
Craigdarroch, and partly to the worthy patroness of my early unknown
muse, Mrs. Stewart, of Afton."]

    Fate gave the word, the arrow sped,
      And pierc'd my darling's heart;
    And with him all the joys are fled
      Life can to me impart.
    By cruel hands the sapling drops,
      In dust dishonour'd laid:
    So fell the pride of all my hopes,
      My age's future shade.
    The mother-linnet in the brake
      Bewails her ravish'd young;
    So I, for my lost darling's sake,
      Lament the live day long.
    Death, oft I've fear'd thy fatal blow,
      Now, fond I bare my breast,
    O, do thou kindly lay me low
      With him I love, at rest!