As when a child on some long Winter's night
 Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees
 With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees
Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell;
 Or of those hags, who at the witching time
 Of murky Midnight ride the air sublime,
And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell:
Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear
 More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell
 Of pretty Babes, that lov'd each other dear.
Murder'd by cruel Uncle's mandate fell:
Even such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart,
Even so thou, Siddons! meltest my sad heart!
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