Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/226

166 He was among the prime in worth,

An object beauteous to behold;

Well born, well bred; I sent him forth

Ingenuous, innocent, and bold:

If things ensued that wanted grace,

As hath been said, they were not base;

And never blush was on my face.

Ah! little doth the Young One dream,

When full of play and childish cares,

What power hath even his wildest scream,

Heard by his Mother unawares!

He knows it not, he cannot guess:

Years to a Mother bring distress;

But do not make her love the less.

Neglect me! no, I suffer'd long

From that ill thought; and, being blind,

Said, "Pride shall help me in my wrong:

Kind mother have I been, as kind

As ever breathed:" and that is true;

I've wet my path with tears like dew,

Weeping for him when no one knew.