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But grief unchecked, or long indulged, is
The mental energies it then subdues ;
Of real generous feeling. But how large
Hangs o'er our joys. Tíme haply yet may
A softening hue o'er all our present gloom; Yet shall the recollection warm, and true, Which the heart cherishes, still unimpaired, Unchanged remain, through many coming
Memory, with fond delight, will oft recal Th' improving converse, which to happy hours
Gave magic swiftness, and the endearing
Of kindness and regard I amply shared,
And, O how highly highly prized! Then welcomed still,
With chastened joy, be this remembered day!
And while to closer communing with heaven,
To deeper meditation on its law
And righteous will, the peaceful sabbath leads,
Let me, with saddened yet submissive
Now hail her birth celestial; whose whole life
Was spent in preparation for its close.
Oft as returns the hallowed morning, when From human frailty freed, her sainted soul, Meekly its Saviour trusting, burst its cell, And from its mortal prison soar'd in hope, With immortality replete, to join
The spirits of the just, be this my prayerThat God in mercy will vouchsafe his peace,
Surpassing thought, to soothe the hearts
Hear me, Almighty Father! whilst for those I supplicate, who smart beneath thy hand. Still by that staff supported, and through
Resign'd beneath thy rod, may they derive From every dispensation of thy grace Those benefits thy kindness has designed. Grant too the excellence I loved, I may, Though at a distance, copy!-By thy strength
Sustain'd, and by Heavenly guidance [comes, So let me live; and when my summons Grant me, with like serenity and hope, All sublunary pleasures to resign. In thy eternal kingdom-through thy [given
Each error cancelled, and each sin forMay I behold my much-loved friends again,
And dwell in heavenly bliss with those whom here
On earth I honoured, loved, revered and
TO MY NIECE, P. M. H.
BY R. HOWITT.
MATILDA, thou art pleasant
With wandering breeze and humming bees,
Sweet as the violet springing,
Sweet as the wilding blossom,
Thou sendest thoughts into the heart
There is within thine eyes
So much of heaven above thee, And so much deep within thy breast We cannot choose, but love thee.
And thinking of thy mother,
BY THE REV. J. ADENEY.
WEEP not, Australia! yet thy skies forlorn Shall catch the splendours of Salvation's
Yet shall He come-upborne on cherub[ing-star! Who grasps with signet-hand the morn