EDITHA (Mary) Matilda Betham Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T143264 Betham, Mary Matilda, 1776-1852. Elegies and Other Small Poems, by Matilda Betham. Ipswich Printed by W. Burrell, and sold by Longman, Paternoster-Row, and Jermyn and Forster, Ipswich 1797 pp. [102]-107.

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EDITHA BREATHING the violet-scented gale , Near to a river's limpid source , Which , through a wide-extended vale , Wound slowly on its sleeping course , Attended by a youthful pair , With rubied lip and roving eye , Oft would fair Editha repair , And let her children wander nigh . There pleas'd behold their footsteps turn To each new object in their way , Their ringlets glittering in the sun , Their faces careless , blythe , and gay . Once , when they drest their flaxen hair , With flow'rets wild of various hue , And with a proud , exulting air , To their delighted parent drew : " Ah ! thus may every day arise ! " And pleasure thus your hearts pervade ! " The widow'd mother fondly cries , " Before the youthful blossoms fade . " My sighs are all dispers'd in air , " Resign'd to fate , I weep no more , " Your welfare now is all my care , " Yet am I constant as before . " The world , because a vermil bloom , " Tinges my yet unfading cheek , " Says I forget my William's tomb , " A new and earthly love to seek . " Because I join the social train , " With lip that wears a kindred smile ; " And a gay sonnet's lively strain , " Does oft the lonely hour beguile : " Because no longer now I mourn , " With sweeping robes of sable hue ; " No more I clasp the marble urn , " Or vainly bid the world adieu . " Ah ! ill my secret soul they know , " Where my lost hero still remains , " Where memory makes my bosom glow , " And binds me still in closer chains . " Whoe'er hath seen my William's form , " Heighten'd with every martial grace , " The ever-varying , unknown charm , " Wich beam'd in his expressive face ; " Or heard his fine ideas try , " In Fancy's fairy garb to teach , " While the sweet language of his eye , " Excell'd the eloquence of speech , " Could ne'er suppose my faith would fail , " Or aught again this heart enslave ; " That absence would o'er love prevail , " Or hope be bounded by the grave . " Could all but I his merit know ? " His wit and talents see ? " And is his name by all below " Remember'd , but by me ? " No , ne'er will I the memory lose , " Though from my sight thy form is flown , " Of tenderness for other's woes , " And noble firmness in thy own . " No slavish fear thy soul deprest , " Of Death , or his attendant train ; " For in thy pure and spotless breast , " The fear of heav'n did only reign . " Thus , when the still-unsated waves " Spread o'er thy head their whelming arms , " When horrid darkness reign'd around , " And lightnings flash'd their dire alarms , I know not if I have expressed myself with much clearness here , but I meant to describe a sea-fight as concisely as possible . " When , wing'd with death , each moment flew , " And blood the foaming ocean stain'd , " Thy courage cool , consistent , true , " Its native energy maintain'd . " And when the fatal moment came , " The bullet enter'd in thy side , " Only thy spirit's beauteous frame , " Its prisoner flying , droop'd and died . " This is it that consoles my mind , " Which to my love aspiring flies , " And makes me hope , in future days , " To hail my William in the skies . " Should tears from my pale eyelids steal , " I teach my children's how to flow , " And make their little bosoms feel , " Before their time , the touch of woe . " I will not weep ! the world shall see " That I a nobler tribute pay ; " More grateful both to heaven and thee , " By guiding them in virtue's way . " Embracing then her fondest cares , She cast her raptur'd eyes above , And breath'd to heav'n emphatic pray'rs , Of mingled reverence and love . APRIL 15 , 1795.