Author Aaron Hill All happy, then, while o'er their smiling air, A living mother breath'd her guardian care; But, joyless, since their sweet supporter dy'd , They wander, now, thro' life, with half a guide. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments