The Author to Her Infant Twins Mary's Page
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POEMS OF A NOTTINGHAM LACE-RUNNER
THE AUTHOR TO HER INFANT TWINS
Welcome, dear little strangers, welcome here,
Altho' to keen adversity you're come,
Hope's matchless balm each dreary hour shall cheer, And shed her comforts o'er our wretched home.
God can dispel the gloom that hovers round,
And loose us from the grasp of poverty;
For, in the midst of judgment, mercy's found,
And will be shown, I humbly trust, to me:
Remove her iron hand that spoils each joy,
And robs the parent of all earthly bliss.
When I, with rapture, press my girl and boy,
Her frozen looks chill every warming kiss.
I hope kind Heaven will our sorrows view,
And look with pity on this harmless pair;
And tho' its heavy judgments are our due,
Let not these tender little infants share.
But sleep, my babes, I'll not disturb your rest;
Ah! sleep secure, beneath the Heavenly powers:
I'll think the present troubles for the best;
He yet can strew this thorny path with flowers.
35
Contents
To a Lady who visited the author when she was in great distress 14
To a Lady who desired me to pray for the death of youngest child 17
Petition to the British Fair 19
On the Death of the Revd. Dr. Wylde, late of Nottingham 21
Lines, Written in July, on Widow Hind's garden, at Hints, in Staffordshire 26
Lines On the Death of a Gentleman of Basford 31
The Author to Her Infant Twins 35
Appendix: Mary Bailey's Obituary 37
Index of titles and first lines 42
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