Literary Gazette, 16th August 1823, Page 524
Dear Child, we now are left alone on earth,
The grave has those who loved us—desolate
Our home of happiness: the dear fire-side
Round which we clung has many a vacant place—
Death has pass'd over it.
There is no smile to answer thine,
No gentle lip thy lip to press;
There is no look of love, save mine,
To meet thy look in tenderness.
But thou art dearer, thus bereft,
Since all who loved thee so are gone;
Dearer to me thus lonely left,
Oh far more dear, thou orphan'd one!
I loved thee well in happier hour.
Not then thus desolate on earth,—
When thou wert as a favourite flower,
The cherished blossom of our hearth.
Now thou and I alone remain,
And thou art doubly dear to me!
A sweet link of the broken chain
Whose last fond relic rests with thee.L.E.L.