Page:The works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld volume 1.djvu/256

172 How would it open every secret cell Where cherished thought and fond remembrance sleep! How many a tale each conscious step would tell! How many a parted friend these eyes would weep! But O the chief!—If in thy feeling breast The tender charities of life reside, If there domestic love have built her nest, And thy fond heart a parent's cares divide; Go seek the turf where worth, where wisdom lies, Wisdom and worth, ah, never to return! There, kneeling, weep my tears, and breathe my sighs, A daughter's sorrows o'er her father's urn!