[4]
Their happineſs to crown, kind heav'n
two pretty babes did lend;
Lent was the bleſſing, not ſo giv’n,
but for it heaven might ſend.
And ſend Heaven did, ere long, for part,
the eldeſt was recall'd;
Both parents ſorely ru'd the ſmart,
the ſmart them both appall'd
Now firſt appall'd, our warrior brave
ſunk down in deep diſmay;
And oft he view'd his darling's grave,
his darling torn away.
Till heavey thoughts revolv'd too oft,
oppreſs'd the ſprings of life;
His ſtrength decay'd, his ſoul was ſoft,
it bow'd beneath the ſtrife.
His friends to flee the ſcene of grief
their prudent counſel gave;
(From objects new we meet relief)
all fought the youth to ſave.
Bath's balmy waters gently ſtream'd,
their genial aid to give;
Each joy-inſpiring Naiad ſeem'd
to bid the warrior live.
Nathleſs the lurking ſickneſs gains
faſt on his weakened frame;
Till grown more bold, encreaſing pains
reveal'd the fever's flame.
Full thirty days and thirty nights
