Sonnet Addressed to My Mother

OH, thou! whose tender smile most partially
 Hath ever blessed thy child: to thee belong
 The graces which adorn my first wild song,
 If aught of grace it knows: nor thou deny
 Thine ever prompt attention to supply. 
But let me lead thy willing ear along,
 Where virtuous love still bids the strain prolong
 His innocent applause; since from thine eye
 The beams of love first charmed my infant breast,
 And from thy lip Affection's soothing voice
 That eloquence of tenderness expressed,
 Which still my grateful heart confessed divine:
 Oh! ever may its accents sweet rejoice
 The soul which loves to own whate'er it has is thine!