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vered by the whole English world. His name is honored in the catalogue of her most gifted sons.

He was solemnly interred in Westminster Abbey, close by the grave of Garrick, his pupil and his friend.


Ave Maria, the shadows are stealing,
Ave Maria, sweet anthems are pealing,
Soft while they're falling o'er earth and o'er sea,
Sweet Mary, my mother, I turn unto thee.

The zephyr is stealing ere daylight reposes,
The breath of the lily, the scent of the roses,
The birdling is hushing his gay woodland strain,
But the night-bird is chanting a sweeter refrain.

The earth is all beauty, all gladness and love,
From the world at our feet to the bright stars above,
My heart is elated such brightness to see,
And it turns in devotion, sweet mother, to thee.


Alone on Bethlehem's wooded heights

They watched, that shepherd band of old, Thro' the long wastes of dreary night,

Guarding their fleecy fold.

Simple and poor, of patient faith,

Perchance they knew not that the signs, Long typified by prophets old,

The ransom sprung from David's line:

Were all accomplished and the hour,

The blissful hour at length was here, When attestations of the truth,

With words of promise laden cheer,

Were even now, from angel's lips,

Vibrating on the midnight air, But suddenly a brightness shone,

And thro' the waves of glory there.

In sounds of softest dulcet tone,

These words fell on the 'frighted ear, Be not afraid, oh shepherd men,

I bring you tidings glad to cheer.

“Good will to all and peace to men,”

A Saviour King this day is born, Oh, ne'er was sung so sweet a lay,

To usher in a gladsome morn.



And thou wilt go, my sister,

From home, dear home, to dwell, And leave those scenes of early youth

We both have loved so well. Thy place will soon be vacant,

I feel it even now,

When I gaze upon thy placid face,

Thy meek, religious Irow.

I shall miss thy tender greeting,

Thy pleasant cheerful tone, The bounding step, the dear embrace,

The arm around me thrown; I shall listen for thy coming,

Scarce belicving thou art gone, 'Till grief and sadness like a pall,

Are 'round my pathway thrown.

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