Page:The works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld volume 1.djvu/194

110 Blest in thy friendships! in thy death, too, blest! Received without a pang to endless rest. Heaven called the saint matured by length of days. And her pure spirit was exhaled in praise. Bright pattern of thy sex, be thou my Muse; Thy gentle sweetness through my soul diffuse: Let me thy palm, though not thy laurel share, And copy thee in charity and prayer:— Though for the bard my lines are far too faint, Yet in my life let me transcribe the saint.