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And duly here has childhood's train
Bowed to Instruction's mildest sway:
But were those ceaseless lessons vain?
The page of doom alone can say.

Here many a brow in beauty's prime Hath faded, like the rose-tinged cloud, white with time,

And

many a head grown

That towered in manhood's glory proud.

Oh! if from yon celestial place,

Bright bands regard a world like this,

Here many a sainted soul may trace
The birth-place of its boundless bliss.

With tenderest recollections fraught,

How do these parting moments swell! Thou ancient nurse of holy thought,

Dear, venerated dome, farewell!

BENEVOLENCE.

"The silver is mine, and the gold is mine-saith the Lord of Hosts." HAGGAI, II. 8.

WHOSE is the gold that glitters in the mine?
And whose the silver? Are they not the Lord's?
And lo! the cattle on a thousand hills,

And the broad earth with all her gushing springs,
Are they not his who made them?

Ye who hold

Slight tenantry therein, and call your lands

By your own names, and lock your gathered gold
From him who in his bleeding Saviour's name

Doth ask a part, whose shall those riches be
When, like the grass-blade from the autumn-frost,
You fall away?

Point out to me the forms

That in your treasure-chambers shall enact

Glad mastership, and revel where you toiled

Sleepless and stern. Strange faces are they all.

Oh man! whose wrinkling labor is for heirs
Thou knowest not who, thou in thy mouldering bed,
Unkenned, unchronicled of them, shalt sleep;

Nor will they thank thee, that thou didst bereave
Thy soul of good for them.

Now, thou mayest give
The famished food, the prisoner liberty,
Light to the darkened mind, to the lost soul
A place in heaven. Take thou the privilege
With solemn gratitude. Speck as thou art
Upon earth's surface, gloriously exult
To be co-worker with the King of kings.

APPEAL OF THE BLIND.

TO BE SUNG AT AN EXHIBITION OF BLIND BOYS.

YE see the glorious sun,

The varied landscape light,

The moon with all her starry train,
Illume the arch of night,
Bright tree, and bird, and flower

That deck your joyous way,
The face of kindred and of friend,
More fair, more dear than they.

For us there glows no sun,

No green and flowery lawn;

Our rayless darkness hath no moon.

Our midnight knows no dawn;

The parent's pitying eye,

To all our sorrows true,

The brother's brow, the sister's smile,

Have never met our view.

Still there's a lamp within,

That knowledge fain would light, And pure Religion's radiance touch With beams for ever bright, Say, shall it rise to share

Such radiance full and free?

And will ye keep a Saviour's charge

And cause the blind to see?

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