Children of my happier prime,
When One yet lived with me, and
Her rainbow over life and time,
Even Hope, my bride, and mother to you!
O, nurtured in sweet pastoral air,
And fed on flowers and light and
Of morning meadows -spare, ah,
Reproach; spare, and upbraid me
That, yielding scarce to reckless mood,
But jealous of your future lot,
I sealed you in a fate subdued.
Have I not saved you from the
Theft, and ignoring which need
The triumph of the
Unanimous Mediocrity?
Rest, therefore, free from all despite,
Snugged in the arms of comfortable night.
