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Blanche, (kneeling before him.) My father! lay thy hand On thy poor Blanche's head, and once again Bless her with thy deep voice of tenderness, Thus breathing saintly courage through her soul, Ere we are call'd.

D' Aubigné.If I may speak through tears!— Well may I bless thee, fondly, fervently, Child of my heart!—thou who dost look on me With thy lost mother's angel eyes of love! Thou that hast been a brightness in my path, A guest of Heaven unto my lonely soul, A stainless lily in my widow'd house, There springing up—with soft light round thee shed— For immortality!—Meek child of God! I bless thee—He will bless thee!—In his love He calls thee now from this rude stormy world To thy Redeemer's breast.—And thou wilt die, As thou hast lived—my duteous, holy Blanche! In trusting and serene submissiveness, Humble, yet full of Heaven.