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And memory fills my breast:
Again, I see thy lovely eyes
Beaming like stars in cloudless skies,
Lighting me o'er life's sea:
Meek angel of a holy God,
Would that my path of life were trod !
Then for thy home and thee.
THE DYING GIRL.
NOT on my bended knees at night,
O! thus we ne'er shall meet again!—
Not from thy lips shall wisdom come, (Best learned from those we love to
Teaching thy child the soul's bright home,
Father! I may not now complain;
Not on the lawn with flowers around us, And singing birds upon each tree, Where pleasure in our childhood found us, Sister! shall I disport with thee :
The flowers-the birds-the scenes remain; But there we ne'er shall meet again !
Not in thy boat, upon the river,
O'er which we floated light and free; Not with the arrow, bow, and quiver, Shall I, my Brother! range with thee: O! we were happy!-but 'tis vain— For thus we ne'er shall meet again!
But in the land beyond the grave;
And, sinless, bore all earthly sin:
We soon, dear friends, shall meet again!
WRITTEN FOR A COMMEMORATION OF HERVEY, INTENDED TO BE KEPT AT WESTON FAVELL, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, IN THE SUMMER OF
BY JAMES EDMESTON.
IF fields which heroism makes her own, Where the bright ranks and flashing sword have shone,
Lead the admiring visitant to gaze,
The field on which the Christian warrior
And fought the peaceful fight of doing
May warm the heart to feelings deeper
Than all earth's vain and transitory jar.
Adverse alone to sin, and hating none, Save that which hath this beauteous world undone
Sin and its numerous powers-who stand posses'd
Of the high places of the human breast: With these a deadly battle he maintains, Nor rests till frailty dies, and glory reigns. Then, well may memory walk with sacred pride
Where HERVEY flourish'd, and where HERVEY died!
All nature has a voice ;-and he could dwell On the sweet themes our flowery gardens
Death has a voice ;-and from the tomb the toll
Of the dark page booms warring o'er the
The heavens possess a voice;-and how sublime
The tale of those bright sentinels of time! Still as they roll, they speak some wondrous word,
No speech or language where they are not heard;
Perfect in measure and in light they shine, And through all nature flows their wondrous line:
The wisdom taught by these would HER
A write their lessons for his fellow man.