Margaret

I reared it up, and it grew fond of me. After my father's death it saw the day; We gave my mother up for lost, she lay In such a wretched plight, and then at length So very slowly she regain'd her strength. Weak as she was, 'twas vain for her to try Herself to suckle the poor babe, so I Reared it on milk and water all alone; And thus the child became as 'twere roy own; Within my arms it stretched itself and grew, And smiling, nestled in my bosom too.