The Investigation.

Whereon to ground those doubts but just exprest;—

Doubts, which must interest the feeling breast:

‘ Her Brother wert thou, George?— how; prithee say:

Canst thou forego, or cast that name away?’

‘ No living proofs have I,’ the Youth reply'd,

That we by closest ties are not allied;

But in my memory live, and ever will,

A mother's dying words...... I hear them still:

She said, to one who watch'd her parting breath,

“Do n't separate the Children at my death;

They're not both mine: but —” Here the scene was clos'd;

She died, and left us helpless and expos'd;

Nor Time hath thrown, nor Reason's opening power,

One friendly ray on that benighted hour.’

Ne'er did the Chieftains of a Warring State

Hear from the Oracle their half-told fate

With more religious fear, or more suspense,

Than Phoebe now endur'd:— for every sense