Oh! let me fold thee to this throbbing heart,
Which sighs for peace thou only canst impart;
And let me with thee ever humbly bend,
Before each trial heav'n may please to send.
Like some kind star that gives a cheering ray,
To lead benighted mortals on their way,
Do thou appear to check each anxious thought,
And give that blessedness so long I've sought.
"Is that your own composition, Lubin?" (asked Madeline) whose mind was amused by listening to him.
"Yes, Mademoiselle, (replied he) I pass many of the long winter nights in scribbling, and then I set my own words to my own music, and they answer my purpose as well as the best song in the world."
"The purpose of amusing you," said Madeline.
"Yes, Mademoiselle, and keeping care from my mind: life is so short that one should, according to the old saying, 'learn to live all the days of their life', which they never can do if they yield to fretting or vexation."
