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. <br /> <br />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. <br /> <br />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. <br /> <br />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.<br /><br />Mary Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/occasion-d-by-seeing-some-verses-written-by-mrs-constantia-grierson-upon-the-death-of-her-son/
