FLORA AND THALIA. 81 



Oh ye ! who soothe the pangs of death 



With love's own patient care, 

 Still, still retain this fleeting breath, 



Still pour the fervent prayer. 

 And ye, whose smile must greet my eye 



No more, nor voice my ear. 

 Who breathe for me the tender sigh, 



And shed the pitying tear; 



Whose kindness (though far, far removed) 



My grateful thoughts perceive ; 

 Pride of my life — esteemed, beloved. 



My last sad claim receive ! 

 Oh do not quite your friend forget — 



Forget alone her faults ; 

 And speak of her with fond regret. 



Who asks your lingering thoughts. 



MRS. TIGHE. 



u 



