Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/125

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Blanche, (rising.)Now is there strength Infused through all my spirit.—I can rise And say, "Thy will be done!"

D'Aubigné, (pointing upwards.) Seest thou, my child, Yon faint light in the west? The signal star Of our due vesper service, gleaming in Through the close dungeon grating!—Mournfully It seems to quiver; yet shall this night pass, This night alone, without the lifted voice Of adoration in our narrow cell, As if unworthy Fear or wavering Faith Silenced the strain?—No! let it waft to Heaven The prayer, the hope, of poor mortality, In its dark hour once more!—And we will sleep— Yes—calmly sleep, when our last rite is closed.

[They sing together.