To a Young Lady, On the Death of her Mother

Whilst you, opprest with filial grief, deplore
A parent dead, a mother now no more,
Can you attention one sad moment lend,
To the fond tribute of a feeling friend,
Who fain your throbbing sorrows would compose,
And pour the balm of friendship in your woes?
How vain the task, how far beyond my skill!
Nature will triumph—yes, I know she will.
Th' impetuous grief admits of no controul,
The bursting torrent o'erwhelms your soul;
I see the tide of anguish reason drown;
I feel my soul's congenial with your own.
But when you've ta'en long, a last adieu,
Your struggling passions reason will subdue:
Virtue is unobserv'd amid the light,
Bnt shines the brightest in affliction's night:
By her the useful lesson first was given,
A due submission to the will of heaven.
Then dry your tears, indulge not vain despair,
Tho' lost a mother's fond maternal care,
A father lives, whose kindness will repay
The gloomy fortune of this mournful day.
Let this reflection sooth your throbbing breast,
And fortitude compose your soul to rest.
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