ALICE.
159
Ask ye, if still his heart retains its ardent glow?
Ask ye, if filial love
Unbodied spirits prove?
'Tis but a little space, and thou shalt rise to know,
I bend to soothe thy woes,
How near—thou canst not see—
I watch thy lone repose,
Alice doth comfort thee;
To welcome thee I wait—blest mother! come to me.
