Page:Clermont - Roche (1798, volume 4).djvu/129

 him; he bends before the stroke without repining, confident that it proceeds from a hand which cannot err.'

"The language of the venerable man allayed the tempest of my soul: I suffered him to lead me to the Earl, at whose feet I sunk. He turned from the bed, and attempted to speak, but his voice was inarticulate, and tears burst from him. I almost envied him the tears he shed; they relieved his oppression; but mine I could not lighten in that manner; mine was that deep, that silent grief which whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

'They are gone! (said he at length, and extending his trembling hand, he laid it on my shoulder); the pillars of my age are gone! No more shall the soft accents of my children attune my soul to peace! no more shall their bright eyes be opened to inspire me with gladness! the shroud already covers