"Where were ye, NYMPHS! in those disasterous hours,
Which wrap'd in flames AUGUSTA'S sinking towers?
415 Why did ye linger in your wells and groves,
When sad WOODMASON mourn'd her infant loves?
When thy fair Daughters with unheeded screams,
Ill-fated MOLESWORTH! call'd the loitering streams?--
The trembling Nymph on bloodless fingers hung
420 Eyes from the tottering wall the distant throng,
With ceaseless shrieks her sleeping friends alarms,
Drops with singed hair into her lover's arms.--
The illumin'd Mother seeks with footsteps fleet,
Where hangs the safe balcony o'er the street,
425 Wrap'd in her sheet her youngest hope suspends,
And panting lowers it to her tiptoe friends;
Again she hurries on affection's wings,
And now a third, and now a fourth, she brings;
Safe all her babes, she smooths her horrent brow,
430 And bursts through bickering flames, unscorch'd, below.
So, by her Son arraign'd, with feet unshod
O'er burning bars indignant Emma trod.


[Footnote: _Woodmason, Molesworth_. l. 416. The histories of these
unfortunate families may be seen in the Annual Register, or in the
Gentleman's Magazine.]


"E'en on the day when Youth with Beauty wed,
The flames surprized them in their nuptial bed;--
435 Seen at the opening sash with bosom bare,