Writ Upon a Pain of Glass in Westminster House
All happy, then, while o'er their smiling air,
A living mother breath'd her guardian care;
But, joyless, since their sweet supporter dy'd ,
They wander, now, thro' life, with half a guide.
A living mother breath'd her guardian care;
But, joyless, since their sweet supporter dy'd ,
They wander, now, thro' life, with half a guide.
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