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Poem on the Death of Elias Boudinot's Child


[New York, September 4, 1774]

For the sweet babe, my doating heart

Did all a Mother's fondness feel;

Carefull to act each tender part

and guard from every threatning ill.

But what alass! availd my care?

The unrelenting hand of death,

Regardless of a parent's prayr

Has stoped my lovely Infant's breath—

With rapture number Oer thy Charms,

While on thy harmless sports intent,

Or pratling in my happy arms—

No More thy self Important tale

Some embryo meaning shall convey,

Which, should th' imperfect accents fail,

Thy speaking looks would still display—

Thou'st gone, forever gone—yet where,

Ah! pleasing thought; to endless bliss.

Then, why Indulge the rising tear?

Canst thou, fond heart, lament for this?

Let reason silence nature's strife,

And weep Maria's fate no more;

She's safe from all the storms of life,

And Wafted to a peacefull Shore



"Answer to the Inquiry Why I Sighed"

Before no mortal ever knew
A love like mine so tender, true,
Completely wretched—you away,
And but half blessed e'en while you stay.

If present love [unlegible] face
Deny you to my fond embrace
No joy unmixed my bosom warms
But when my angel's in my arms.

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