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It was in the arms of Mme. de La Fayette that Madame, her brief day of splendor over, fell into that strange slumber the wakening of which was to be so horrible; and it was Mme. de La Fayette who soothed the princess in those last hours, the torture of which drew tears even from the heart of Louis. M. Anatole France says that he suspects Mme. de La Fayette of having hated the King.
Au comte de Dartmouth . Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New England to adorn: Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies She shines supreme, while hated faction dies. Soon us appear'd the Goddess long desir'd Sick at the view, she languish'd and expir'd. Thus from the splendors of the morning light The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.
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