When my senses first woke to the scene,

  Some short happy hours she had past

    On the margin of Honington Green.

                    8

  Her Parents with Plenty were blest,

    And nume'rous her Children, and young,

  Youth's Blossoms her cheek yet possest,

    And Melody woke when she sung:

  A Widow so youthful to leave,

    (Early clos'd the blest days he had seen)

  My Father was laid in his grave,

    In the Church-yard on Honington Green.

                    9

  I faintly remember the Man,

    Who died when I was but a Child;

  But far as my young mind could scan,

    His manners were gentle and mild:

  He won infant ears with his lore,

    Nor let young ideas run wild,

  Tho' his hand the severe rod of pow'r

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