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And on the horizon's verge the scenes

eclipsed

By heavy, dark, dull earthy sable clouds; Then, as she struggles to ascend the sky, She casts a fitful and ensanguined ray; Emblem of death!-then rolling off the mist,

In august brightness to the midst of heaven, Purged from aught earthly, upward mounts in glory,

And reigns in night's high noon-celestial all.

But we shall meet again; and in the hea

vens

Enjoy with her the presence of the Lord; Free from earth's fetters, free from sin's assaults.

Then wherefore weep ye?-Yet a little while,

And we shall meet again—and though it be Grievous to part, though for one little hour, Yet, oh! remember that the busy world

With all its follies, was to her a country

She knew not-and its language struck her

ear

As the harsh greeting of a foreign tongue.
Now, with the host robed in celestial light,
She sings the language of the holy city—
A wandering pilgrim, who through toil and
pain

Has reached at last her long expected home. [Dirge.

Where the verdant leaves quiver,

The bright flowers arise;

Where the sweet birds for ever

Pour song to the skies:

Where the clear waters trinkle,

And fountains there spray,
On zephyr's wings sprinkle,

Who bear them away;
And then lightly rushing,
Fly through the sweet air,
The violet cups crushing,

And leave the drops there:

Where the nightingale sigheth

Her orison strain ;

And echo replieth

Again and again :

Where the cypress, that waving
Its crest o'er the wood,
And the grey willow laving
Its boughs in the flood,
Through shadows of sorrow
And emblems of woe,

Yet a solemn joy borrow
From Phœbus' glow.

Pure as the water,

Than flow'rets more fair,

Earth's feeble daughter,
Rest in peace there!

Body! though as fair a form

As ever had a mortal birth,

And walked exulting on the earth;

Now we give thee to the worm :

Soon to lose both form and feature,
And with other dust be blent,
With the clay that nature lent,
Till there's no distinction! none;
But the dust we tread upon
May be dust of any creature
That the blessed sun shone on.
Body! fair as angels are;

Eye! shed a ray of brightness,
Like the twinkling of a star;

Tongue! that thrilled a note as clear
As a cherub from its sphere,
When the heart was full of lightness;
Lips! that rivalled rich vermillion;
Cheeks! that shamed the rose's hue,
Or the sky at even tide,

When the sun seeks his pavilion,
And with blushes deep hath dyed
Earth, and heaven, and ocean blue-
Soon shall they all be clay-a handful small
Of crumbling dust shall comprehend ye all !

But when devouring fire,

And the red blasting thunder,

Shall tear the fabric of the globe asunder, Amid th' angelic choir,

The trumpet of the Lord shall sound;

And at the summons dread,

From the consuming ground,

There shall awake the dead.
The Lord shall call his own

To worship him before his throne;
There, though we lay thee in the dust,
Yet in his blessed word we trust,
That there among the angelic train,
O heavenly spirit! we shall meet again.

THE ROSE OF SHARON.

THERE is a flower-a beauteous flower, Which is not much admired;

And yet it must each day and hour

By Christians be desired.

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