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And on the horizon's verge the scenes
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
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
As the harsh greeting of a foreign tongue.
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,
Who bear them away;
And leave the drops there:
Where the nightingale sigheth
Her orison strain ;
And echo replieth
Again and again :
Where the cypress, that waving
Yet a solemn joy borrow
Pure as the water,
Than flow'rets more fair,
Earth's feeble daughter,
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,
Eye! shed a ray of brightness,
Tongue! that thrilled a note as clear
When the sun seeks his pavilion,
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.
To worship him before his throne;
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.