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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455493" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Occasion'd By Seeing Some Verses Written By Mrs. Constantia Grierson, Upon The Death Of Her Son.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This mourning Mother can with Ease explore<br>The Arts of Latium, and the Grecian Store:<br>Was early learn'd, nay more, was early wise;<br>And knew the Pride of Science to despife;<br>Left Men to take assuming Airs from thence;<br>And seem'd unconscious of superior Sense.<br>Yet, ah! how vain to guard the Soul, we see,<br>Are the best Precepts of Philosophy!<br>See Nature triumph o'er the boasted Art,<br>Ev'n in a Solon's, and Constantia's Heart.<br>See how she mourns her Son's untimely Doom,<br>And pours her Woes o'er the relentless Tomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soften, kind Heav'n, her seeming rigid Fate,<br>With frequent Visions of his blissful State:<br>Oft let the Guardian Angel of her Son<br>Tell her in faithful Dreams, His Task is done;<br>Shew, how he kindly led her lovely Boy<br>To Realms of Peace, and never--fading Joy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, for a while, reverse his happy Fate;<br>Shew him still here, still in this wretched State:<br>Shew the false World, seducing him from Truth;<br>And paint the slipp'ry, dang'rous Paths of Youth:<br>Shew him, in riper Years, beset with Snares,<br>Weary'd with struggling thro' unnumber'd Cares:<br>Convey him thence to Life's remotest Stage,<br>To feel the dire Calamities of Age;<br>Oppress'd with Sorrows, with Distempers torn,<br>Or rack'd with Guilt, much harder to be borne.<br>Raise the Distress; and let her darling Care,<br>Distracted in the Horrors of Despair,<br>The dreadful Scene of Judgment op'ning see,<br>And, trembling, plunge into Eternity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then ask her, Would she call him down from Bliss,<br>To hazard such a dismal Doom as this?<br>That she may learn to be resign'd from thence,<br>And bless the Guardian Hand, that snatch'd him hence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455493" data-title="Occasion'd By Seeing Some Verses Written By Mrs. Constantia Grierson, Upon The Death Of Her Son. de Mary Barber" data-description="This mourning Mother can with Ease explore
The Arts of Latium, and the Grecian Store:
Was early learn'd, nay more, was early wise;
And knew the Pride of Science to despife;
Left Men to take assuming Airs from thence;
And seem'd unconscious of supe..."></div>
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