Sonnet XVII

SONNET XVII.
 
Nè mai pietosa madre al caro figlio.
 
HER COUNSEL ALONE AFFORDS HIM RELIEF.
 
 
Ne'er did fond mother to her darling son,Or zealous spouse to her belovèd mate,Sage counsel give, in perilous estate,With such kind caution, in such tender tone,As gives that fair one, who, oft looking downOn my hard exile from her heavenly seat,With wonted kindness bends upon my fateHer brow, as friend or parent would have done:Now chaste affection prompts her speech, now fear,Instructive speech, that points what several waysTo seek or shun, while journeying here below;Then all the ills of life she counts, and praysMy soul ere long may quit this terrene sphere:And by her words alone I'm soothed and freed from woe.
 
Nott. 
 
Ne'er to the son, in whom her age is blest,The anxious mother—nor to her loved lordThe wedded dame, impending ill to ward,With careful sighs so faithful counsel press'd,As she, who, from her high eternal rest,Bending—as though my exile she deplored—With all her wonted tenderness restored,And softer pity on her brow impress'd!Now with a mother's fears, and now as oneWho loves with chaste affection, in her speechShe points what to pursue and what to shun!Our years retracing of long, various grief,Wooing my soul at higher good to reach,And while she speaks, my bosom finds relief!
 
Dacre.

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