Here you will find the Poem Verses III of poet Charlotte Smith
Written by the same lady on seeing her two sons at play. SWEET age of bless'd delusion! blooming boys, Ah! revel long in childhood's thoughtless joys, With light and pliant spirits, that can stoop To follow, sportively, the rolling hoop; To watch the sleeping top with gay delight, Or mark, with raptured gaze, the sailing kite; Or, eagerly pursuing Pleasure's call, Can find it center'd in the bounding ball. Alas! the day will come, when sports like these Must lose their magic, and their power to please: Too swiftly fled, the rosy hours of youth Shall yield their fairy charms to mournful Truth; Even now, a mother's fond prophetic fear Sees the dark train of human ills appear; Views various fortune for each lovely child, Storms for the bold, and anguish for the mild; Beholds already those expressive eyes Beam a sad certainty of future sighs; And dreads each suffering those dear breasts may know In their long passage through a world of woe; Perchance predestined every pang to prove, That treacherous friends inflict, or faithless love; For, ah! how few have found existence sweet, Where grief is sure, but happiness deceit.