Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/90

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70 THE WEAV]?R'$ BOY. Then, pointing .to the loom, "There, sit thee down," He cried, and left his victim with a frown? Who stood awhile with lost bewilder'd sir, Then hea?ess, r�cidess, sank upon his chair: With mind hal? gone? scarce knowing what he did, He'd to do as 1? was bid. And, the hard task tho' hopeless to fulfil, His fingers mo?e ms?banieally still. But now he starts convulsively, and seems Like ene awak'nin{! from perturbed dreams. A strange wild light came glancing o'er his eye, And his chS6k fiush'd a moment, "I will die !" Oh, was theta noae to bid thee ?imely flee, Poor child of W?, to Him who died far thee ? At morn the'father sou�the working-room, It was deserted ? in the silent loom The web but just begun, the chair o'erturn:d, As in wild haste and psrt?bation spurn'd. "What, dares he thus indulge himself in rest ?" He seeks his chamber } to,. the bed maprest ! Then, fierce ? passion, "Surely he is fled, But I'll sooa fetcl?him10ack." Can'st thou recal the dead He hast?dd,.?!? and mot a Fath'riug throng:, Who, in the midst, bore some dmut weight along. They stop-,divide wi? exeerating hiss, "Thy cruelty bath d?i,'n thy son to this ......... ?Google