And is this little darling doomed to roam,
And cross the treacherous ocean for a home?
And must the cruel barque his cradle be?
And must the billows waft him far from me?
How oft, when grief has crowded round my heart,
I have caressed him, to forget a part:
How oft I’ve long’d his dear departed sire
Could view these fleeting charms that I so much admire.
I, in the infant, could the father see;
Which binds the tie so doubly dear to me.
Oh, thou auspicious Power! send thou thy aid--
Protect the worthy mother and the babe.
Oh, thou bright orb of night! be thou their light,
To guide the helmsman in his onward flight;
Then may the father, with unsullied joy,
Clasp in his arms his much loved wife and boy.
[Illustration]