Lady Randolph's complaint

My hero! my hero! my beauteous, my brave,

How proud was my soul of thy virtues and thee;

Doom'd here prematurely to find a cold grave,

Nor couldst thou elude what thou couldst not

foresee.

Of gen'rous endeavours, was this thy reward,

The lord of this mansion from foes to defend?

Henceforth hospitality who shall regard;

What man on the friendship of man shall depend.

Forgive, gracious powers, in compassion my state,

Whilst, by sorrow compell'd, with reluctance I seize

The only sweet moment reserv'd me by fate,

The moment which renders me just what I please;

My Douglas, my darling, my glory, my pride!

How happy was I but to name thee my son!

For thee would to heav'n a fond mother had died,

Since living without thee, is living undone.