The Portland Gazette

POETRY.

FROM THE LIVERPOOL MERCURY

THE FEMALE CONVICT TO HER INFANT.

O, glean not, my babe, for the morn of to-morrow
Shall soothe me to slumber more tranquil than thine:
The dark grave shall shield me from shame and from sorrow,
Tho' the deeds and the doom of the guilty are mine.

Not long shall the arm of affection enfold thee,
Not long shalt thou hang on thy mother's fond breast;
And who with the eye of delight shall behold thee
And watch thee, and guard thee, when I am at rest!

And yet it doth grieve me to wake thee, my dearest,
The pangs of thy desolate mother to see;
Thou wilt weep when the clank of my cold chain thou hearest
And none but the guilty should mourn over me.

And yet I must wake thee--while thou art weeping
To calm thee I stifle my tears for awhile;
But thou smil'st in thy dreams, while thus placidly sleeping,
And oh! how it wounds me to gaze on thy smile!

Alas! my sweet babe, with what pride had I prest thee
To the bosom that now throbs with terror and shame.
If the pure tie of virtuous affection had blest thee.
And hail'd thee the heir of thy father's high name?

But now--with remorse that avails not--I mourn thee,
Forsaken and friendless, as soon thou wilt be
In a world, if it cannot betray, that will scorn thee,
Avening the guilt of thy mother on thee.

And when the dark thought of my fate shall awaken
The deep blush of shame, on thy innocent cheek,
When by all, but the God of the orphan, forsaken,
A home and a father in vain thou shalt seek;

I know that the base world will seek to deceive thee,
With falsehood like that which thy mother beguiled;
Deserted and helpless--to whom can I leave thee?
Oh! God of the fatherless! pity my child!

From the Franklin Gazette.