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Charlotte Smith - Verses III
Work rating: Low

Written by the same lady on seeing her two sons
at play. 
SWEET age of bless`d delusion! blooming boys,
Ah! revel long in childhood`s thoughtless joys,
With light and pliant spirits, that can stoop
To follow, sportively, the rolling hoop;

To watch the sleeping top with gay delight,
Or mark, with raptured gaze, the sailing kite;
Or, eagerly pursuing Pleasure`s call,
Can find it center`d in the bounding ball.
Alas! the day will come, when sports like these
Must lose their magic, and their power to please:
Too swiftly fled, the rosy hours of youth
Shall yield their fairy charms to mournful Truth;
Even now, a mother`s fond prophetic fear
Sees the dark train of human ills appear;
Views various fortune for each lovely child,
Storms for the bold, and anguish for the mild;
Beholds already those expressive eyes
Beam a sad certainty of future sighs;
And dreads each suffering those dear breasts may know
In their long passage through a world of woe;
Perchance predestined every pang to prove,
That treacherous friends inflict, or faithless love;
For, ah! how few have found existence sweet,
Where grief is sure, but happiness deceit.
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