.Nw.OTU4

[Jennifer J. Leong Cardwell, j_leongcardwell@yahoo.com, transcription 8 July 2017] To view the mother of thy infant race, Hang in mute anguish o'er her wasting child, The progress of disease to pace - To see cold famine pale his cherub face - To see him die, and start a man, a craving wild; Yes Robin, e'en tho starving, thou mayst sigh For man, his never ending ills deplores! Thou will soon be blest; or die - Perhaps e'en now the grateful thaw is nigh When love and plenty shall the bliss restore. - - - - - - - - - ----