To thee thy parted bride may send
A minister of love from heaven.
Each wandering thought the Attendant Shade
To truth and virtue shall restore
And when the thorns of woe invade
Shall bid thy bosom bleed no more.
Yes! o'er thy steps where'er they tread
A silent guardian, watch shall keep
And to thy solitary bed
Lead the soft balm of anguish, sleep.
And oft, with warbled airs of dove,
The hovering spirit shall delight
Thy sunset walk by the still grove
Thy musing wakefulness at night.
To think that life is quickly past
Is solace to the mind opprest
That on the couch of death at last
The weary frame shall welcome rest.
And let the thought thy breast console
That thou no more with anguish tossed
Ere many years shall o'er thee roll
Shalt be with her whom thou hast lost. 3
MANUSCRIPT: NYPL-GR (draft) PUBLISHED: To the Memory of Mrs. Betsey Porter ( Cambridge, 1813), pp. 7-8.
Worthington Oct. 2, 1813 Dear Sir,
Mr. Howe, who set out for Boston today, 1 wished me to send over, the first opportunity, for the execution on the action against Sears, de-