Page:Poems Nealds.djvu/101

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75

And now with this blest thought I will my griefs assuage,
That thou with duteous care wilt soothe my drooping age.





STANZAS.
The dew-drops gem the blushing rose,
All nature's hush'd in sleep,
Whilst I, a stranger to repose,
Must wake, alas! to weep.

The silver moon shines bright and clear,
And gilds each bush and tree;
To me the scene is sweetly dear,
It soothes my misery.