J

LAID him down

In those white shrouded arms with bitter tears; For some voice told me that in after

years

He should know nought of passion, grief, or fears,
As I had known.

HIS work concluded ere the day was done, Sudden the Saviour stooped, and caught him to his throne.

N innocence he lived and died.

UCH was his life, and such his happy end, As showed whate'er could justly recommend The man, the Christian, or the friend.

E that is dead is freed from sin.

ROM. vi. 7.

EVEN this man is borne with honour to his

grave; yea, he still survives upon the tomb. Sweet to him are the clods of the valley, and he draweth all men after him, and multitudes without number have gone before him. JOB Xwi. 32, 33.

HE wise and good approved the life he led,
And, as they loved him living, mourn him dead.

H

E sleeps in peace, and here his ashes may
Expect in peace the joyful, dreadful day.

HE meanest part of him is only told
In this inscription, as this tomb doth hold
His worser part, and both these early may
In length of time consume and wear away.
His virtue does more lasting honours give,
Virtue and virtuous souls for ever live.

HOUGH with the world she acted Martha's part, She yet, like Mary, gave to God her heart.

THUS drooping nature sinks to rest,
And her pure spirit joins the blest.

S that his death-bed, where the Christian lies? No! 'tis not his! 'tis death itself that dies.

ALM and serene, in virtue's paths he trod, Loved mercy, and walked humbly with his God.

HEY looked-she was dead!

Her spirit had fled,

The soul undrest,

From her mortal vest

Had stepped in her car of heavenly fire;

And proved how bright

Were the realms of light,

Bursting at once upon the sight!

EAR as thou art, and justly dear,
We should not weep for thee;

One thought should check the starting tear,
It is that thou art free.

And thus should faith's consoling power

That tear of love restrain :

Oh! who that saw that parting hour
Could wish thee here again?

FOR MARRIED PERSONS AND
PARENTS.

WHO would not weep upon a matron's tomb,

Whose pious care demands the filial tear? Who would not mourn th' irrevocable doom That from our bosoms tore a parent dear? Yet in her bright example ever blest, And by her precepts, may we gain that rest, To which, alas! how soon she led the way.

APPY in husband's, children's love,

Few

years

How may

she lived in earth's abode;

the happier converse prove

In blest, eternal peace with God.

OULD marble know what virtue's buried here,
This monument would scarce refuse a tear;

But mourn, so early snatched from mortal life,
The tenderest parent, and the dearest wife.

EARN from her life the virtues that commend The child, the wife, the parent, and the friend: Learn from her death, that Heaven's decrees ordain

To beauty and to youth a short-lived reign; Then soar like her, released from worldly cares, To bliss that God for purest souls prepares.

HE died-but, angel-like, on earth
Her death will be a seraph's birth;
And o'er me, like a genial star,
She'll shed her radiance from afar;
A sacred, sainted portion given
To balm a heart so rudely riven
As his, who mourns her in the spring,
The birth-time of her blossoming.

THOMSON.

HE was-but words are wanting to say what: Think what a wife should be-and she was that.

'UR father's voice, we loved to hear,
But often heard, alas! in vain,

In hallowed words of praise and prayer,
Will never bless our ears again.