Widow Gordon's Petition, The: To the Rt Hon. the Lady Carteret

Weary'd with long Attendance on the Court,
You, Madam, are the Wretch's last Resort.
Eternal King! if Here in vain I cry,
Where shall the Fatherless, and Widow fly?

How blest are they, who sleep among the Dead,
Nor hear their Childrens piercing Cries for Bread!

When your lov'd Off-spring gives your Soul Delight,
Reflect, how mine are irksome to my Sight:
O think, how must a wretched Mother grieve,
Who hears the Want she never can relieve!

An Evil prays upon my helpless Son,
(How many ways the Wretched are undone!)
Cruel Distemper, to assault his Sight,
And rob him of his only Joy, the Light!
His Anguish makes my wearied Eyes o'erflow,
And loads me with unutterable Woe.

No Friendly Voice my lonely Mansion cheers,
All fly th'Infection of the Widow's Tears:
Ev'n those, whose Pity eas'd my Wants with Bread,
Are now, o sad Reverse! my greatest Dread.
My mournful Story will no more prevail,
And ev'ry Hour I dread a dismal Jail:
I start at each imaginary Sound,
And Horrors have encompass'd me around .

Tremble, ye Daughters, who at Ease recline,
Lest ye should know a Misery like mine.
Ye now, unmov'd, can hear the Wretched moan,
And feel no Wants, yourselves oppress'd by none;
Fly from the Sight of Woes, ye will not share,
And leave the helpless Orphan to despair.
But know, that dreadful Hour is drawing near,
When you'll be treated, as you've acted here:
To you no more the Wretched shall complain,
'Twill be your Turn to weep, and sue in vain.

Not so the Fair, with God-like Mercy bless'd,
Who feels another's Anguish in her Breast;
Who never hears the Wretched sigh in vain,
Herself distress'd, till she relieves their Pain.

This, Fame reports, Fair CARTERET, of You;
This blest Report encourag'd me to sue.
O Angel Goodness, hear and ease my Moan,
Nor let your Mercy fail in me alone!
So at the last Tribunal I will stand,
With my poor Orphans, plac'd on either Hand;
There, with my Cries my SAVIOUR I'll assail;
(For at His Bar the Widow's Tears prevail)
That she, who made the Fatherless her Care,
The Fulness of Coelestial Joys may share;
That She a Crown of Glory may receive,
Who snatch'd me from Destruction and the Grave.
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