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THE SAINTED DEAD.

[REV. C. STRONG.] HERE, where the night-breeze moans like a I would hold converse with my kindred dead, And shape them to mine eye, as when they fled To the pure clime where righteous spirits dwell.

Imagination, work thy mightiest spell-
My sire appears; light such as sunbeams shed
On vernal showers enwreaths his sainted head;
He seems to say, Son! guard thy mother well.

isters! ye too do leave your heaven awhile, For this brief moment surely were ye spared, To teach me how above the angels smile :

Brothers! with whom life's joys and pains were

shared, I mark the import of that warning style, Lips never plainlier spake–Be thou prepared.'

BLESSED ARE THE DEAD.

(MRS. SIGOURNEY.]
THEY dread no storm that lowers,

No perish'd joys bewail ;
They pluck no thorn-clad flowers,

Nor drink of streams that fail.

There is no tear-drop in their eye,

Nor change upon their brow ; The placid bosom heaves no sigh,

Though all earth’s idols bow.

Who are so greatly bless'd ?

From whom hath sorrow fled ? Who find such deep unbroken rest,

While all things toil ?—The dead! The holy dead! Why weep ye so

Above their sable bier? Thrice blessed! they have done with woe ;

The living claim the tear.

We dream, but they awake;

Dark visions mar our rest;
Mid thorns and snares our way we take,

And yet we mourn the bless'd:
For those who throng th’ eternal throne,

Lost are the tears we shed-
They are the living, they alone,

Whom thus we call the dead.

SLEEPING IN JESUS.

[THE AMETHYST, 1838.] SLEEP in Jesus ! blessed sleep!

From which none ever wake to weep; A calm and undisturb'd repose, Unbroken by the last of foes.

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Asleep in Jesus! Oh! how sweet
To be for such a slumber meet ;
With holy confidence to sing
That death has lost his venom'd sting!
Asleep in Jesus ! peaceful rest!
Whose waking is supremely blest;
No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour
That manifests the Saviour's power.
Asleep in Jesus! Oh! for me
May such a blissful refuge be;
Securely shall my ashes lie,
Waiting the summons from on high.
Asleep in Jesus! time, nor space,
Debars this precious “ hiding place.”
On Indian plains, or Lapland snows,
Believers find the same repose.
Asleep in Jesus! far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be ;
But thine is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wake to weep.

MAN IMMORTAL.

(MISS HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS.] WHEN all yon planets in their ample spheres

Have wing'd their course, and roll’d their

destined years ; When the vast sun shall veil his golden light Deep in the gloom of everlasting night;

When wild, destructive flames shall wrap the skies,
When Chaos triumphs, and when Nature dies ;
Man shall alone the wreck of worlds survive,
Midst falling spheres, immortal man shall live!
The voice which bade the last dread thunders roll,
Shall whisper to the good, and cheer their soul.
God shall himself his favour'd creature guide,
Where living waters pour their blissful tide,
Where the enlarged, exulting, wondering mind
Shall soar, from weakness and from guilt refined ;
Where perfect knowledge, bright with cloudless rays,
Shall gild eternity's unmeasured days;
Where friendship, unembitter'd by distrust,
Shall in immortal bands unite the just ;
Devotion raised to rapture breathe her strain,
And Love in his eternal triumph reign.

IMMORTAL LIFE.

“L

[ANONYMOUS.) IFE shall spring out of death.” Oh, with that

sound, Spirit of peace! thou spread’st thy radiant wing, Earth's broken garlands, scatter'd o'er the ground,

Bloom forth afresh, as in the dawn of spring. O sons of earth! ye who so oft would twine Her fading blossoms with your hopes divine, Cast, cast those wreaths aside ; one hope alone Will bloom when all is faded, lost, and gone To cheer thee in life's latest parting breath, And whisper peace. Life shall spring out of death!” IMMORTALITY.

[DANA.]

AND with our frames do perish all our loves?

Do those that take their root, and put forth buds
And their soft leaves, unfolded in the warmth
Of mutual hearts, grow up and live in beauty,
Then fade and fall, like fair unconscious flowers ?
Are thoughts and passions that to the tongue give

speech,
And make it send forth winning harmonies,-
That to the cheek do give its living glow,
And vision in the eye the soul intense
With that for which there is no utterance,-
Are these the body's accidents ?—no more
To live in it, and, when that dies, go out
Like the burnt taper's flame?

O listen, man!
A voice within us speaks that startling word,

Man, thou shalt never die !” Celestial voices
Hymn it unto our souls; according harps,
By angel fingers touch'd, when the mild stars
Of morning sang together, sound forth still
The song of our great immortality ;
Thick-clustering orbs, and this our fair domain,
The tall, dark mountains, and the deep-toned seas,
Join in this solemn, universal song.
0, listen ye, our spirits ! drink it in
From all the air! 'Tis in the gentle moonlight;

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