Classic Poem

What were, alas! thy woes compar'd to mine?
To thee thy mistress in the blissful band
Of Hymen never gave her hand;
The joys of wedded love were never thine.
In thy domestick care
She never bore a share,
Nor with endearing art
Would heal thy wounded heart
Of ev'ry secret grief that fester'd there:
Nor did her fond affection on the bed
Of sickness watch thee, and thy languid head
Whole nights on her unweary'd arm sustain,
And charm away the sense of pain;
Nor did she crown your mutual flame
With pledges dear, and with a father's tender name.