MOMENT'S space, a transient span;
So short is life, so frail is man.

As for man, his days are as grass, as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. PSALM ciii. 15.

MY days are shorter than a span,
A little point my life appears;

How frail at best is dying man;

How vain are all his hopes and fears!

LL worldly pomp away doth pass,

Like fading flowers and withered grass.

MISCELLANEOUS.

AKE wing, my soul, and upward bend thy flight, There's nothing, nothing here below

That can deserve thy longer stay.

J. NOBRIS.

S those we love decay, we die in part,

String after string is severed from the heart; Till loosened life, at last, but breathing clay, Without a pang is glad to fall away.

THOMSON.

READ thou this lesson well,

That what is pure and beautiful on earth
Shall smile in heaven.

SIGOURNEY.

THAT living flow'ret which thy God had given,
Hath love transplanted to its bower in heaven;
There shall each grace to perfect beauty rise,
And bud with glory when it breathes the skies.

R. MONTGOMERY.

UR lives are rivers, gliding free,
To that unfathomed boundless sea,
The silent grave.

LONGFELLOW.

AN storied urn, or animated bust

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust? Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?

GRAY.

N this side and on that, men see their friends Drop off like leaves in autumn.

BLAIR.

HEAR a voice you cannot hear,
Which says I must not stay;

I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.

TICKELL.

ARE, pain, and death terrific gloom no more, But seem to pave a golden way to heaven; The race to reach the distant goal is o'er, The toil is ended, and the prize is given.

HERE are they who gave the impulse
To thy earliest thought and flow?

Look around the ruined garden,

All are withered, dropped, or low.

IVE our tears to the dead! For humanity's claim From its silence and darkness is ever the same; The hope of that world, whose existence is bliss, May not stifle the tears of the mourners of this.

J. G. WHITTIER.

HEN shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who ECCLES. xii. 7.

gave it.

IND me a green, and a sunny spot,
For shadow hath ever been my lot;

And sunshine would now come too late to save;
But O, let it fall on my grave-on my grave!
Let it fall there!

THE

HE grave is but for the body; the death-day of time is the birth-day of eternity.

"I HAVE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT."

2 Timothy ill. 7.

THEIR task is o'er, their toil is done,
Embowered in bliss they dwell;

And would we wear the crown they won,
Then let us fight as well!

R. MONTGOMERY.

VER in heaven: when this life is closing,

The world gone by, the strife and struggle o'er;

Pleasures and pains alike forgot, reposing,

Nothing to ruffle or to trouble more.

DEATH only this mysterious truth unfolds,

The mighty soul how small a body holds.
DRYDEN'S JUVENAL.

WHAT is life but a sum of love,
And death but to lose it all?

Weeds be for those that are left behind,
And not for those that fall.

THE parted spirit,

MILNES.

Knoweth it not our sorrow? answereth not

Its blessing to our tears?

J. G. WHITTIER.

RIGHTER, fairer far than living,
With no trace of change or stain;

Robed in everlasting beauty,

Shall we see them once again.

ONE before! but never, never forgotten.

W

HO are those arrayed in white,
Foremost of the sons of light?
These are they that bore the cross,
Sufferers in His righteous cause.

M