24?' ptetrv. -^u^' 



WIio, tlien, my child ! will guide thy tcnJer years, 

 AnJ gently lead thee throtigh this vale of tears ? 

 Frum penury and want who will thee sive. 

 When both thy parents sleep in death's cold grave ' 



Fatal, perhaps, thy op'ning charms may proTe, 

 Thy cheeks soft crimson, and mild eye of love. 

 When thou has^ no frieTd to protect thy youth. 

 To teach the; spotlefs innocence and truth. 



These thoughts with wild emotions throb my breast,. 

 And deep despxir deprivfs my soul of rest; 

 Th.'s: thoughts, O death ! add horror to thy dart. 

 And thrills, with anguifh keen a mother's heart. 



Religion come, and chear afflicticn's hnur. 

 Ah let my blei-ding bosom feel thy pow'r ! 

 Teach me, resigtiM, to view approaching death, 

 And yield without regret to heav'n my breath. 



My God, though this frail form wiH s'nk in dust. 

 Still in thv arm, .ill powerful ! will I trust ; 

 Thou art the orphan's (h'eld, the widow's stay, 

 And thou ruy babe wilt guide in virtue's way. 



ELVINA. 



LINES WRITTEN BY VOLTAIRE ON HIS DEATH BED, 

 SUPPOSED TO BE THE LAST THING HE EVER WROTE-. 



'-' DiEu qu'on mecconoit 



O Dieu que tout annonce3 

 Intend le dernier mot, 



Que ma bouche prononrc '. 

 Si je me suis trompe, 



C'cst en cherchant ta loi; 

 Mon c(2ur se peut eg.irer, 



Mais il est plein de toi. 

 Je vois sans m'allarmer, 



L'e^ernite paroitre } 

 Et je ne pu's penser, 



Q|un Dieu que m'a fait naitre, 

 Q^n Dieu que sur mes jours 



Versa tant de bie ifait, 

 Quand les jours sont eteints, 



Me tourmcnte a jamais. 



