Du dieu qui nous créa la clémence infinie, Pour adoucir, &c.

The God who made us in infinite pow'r,
To cheer the woes of life's uncertain hour,
Has placed amongst us two of such sweet birth
That never brighter dwellers were on earth.
Solace in toils, in pain and care a prop,
One is sweet Slumber, and the other Hope.
One, when man, weaken'd, feels his frame at length
Shorn of its vigour and embracing strength,
Comes with calm pace, and pours his soothing ray,
And all his pains in slumber pass away.
The other fires our heart, inspires our will,
And even when cheating gives true pleasure still;
But to those favour'd ones on whom her dews
Are pour'd by heaven no fleeting joy ensues,
For fresh from God she brings His strength and stay,
Pure even as He—so endless is her sway.