Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/62



And, oh! if e'er I've sigh'd to claim The palm, the living palm of fame, The glowing wreath of praise; If e'er I've wish'd the glitt'ring stores, That fortune on her fav'rite pours; 'Twas but, that wealth and fame, if mine, Round thee, with streaming rays might shine, And gild thy sun-bright days!

Yet not that splendor, pomp, and pow'r, Might then irradiate ev'ry hour; For these, my mother! well I know, On thee no raptures could bestow; But could thy bounty, warm and kind, Be, like thy wishes, unconfin'd; And fall, as manna from the skies, And bid a train of blessings rise, Diffusing joy and peace; The tear-drop, grateful, pure and bright, For thee would beam with softer light,