Come, disappointment come,

Thou art not stern to me,
Sad monitress! I own thy sway,
A votary sad in early day

I bend my knee to thee;

From sun to sun

Thy race will run,

I only bow, and say, "My God, thy will be done."

Kirke White.

WHAT IS LIFE?

Oh, 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.-Milnes.

ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL STATUE OF A DEAD

CHILD.

I saw thee in thy beauty! bright phantom of the

past;

I saw thee for a moment-'twas the first time and

the last;

And though years since then have glided by of mingled bliss and care,

I never have forgotten thee, thou fairest of the fair!

I saw thee in thy beauty, thou wert graceful as the fawn,

When in very wantonness of glee, it sports upon the

lawn ;

I saw thee seek the mirror, and when it met thy

sight,

The very air was musical with thy burst of wild delight.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with thy sister by thy

side

She, a lily of the valley; thou, a rose in all its pride!

I looked upon thy mother, there was triumph in

her eyes,

And I trembled for her happiness, for grief had made her wise.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with one hand among her curls,

The other with no gentle grasp, had seized a string of pearls ;

She felt the pretty trespass, and she chid thee, though she smiled,

And I know not which were lovelier, the mother or the child.

I saw thee in thy beauty! and a tear came to mine

eye,

As I pressed thy rosy cheek to mine, and thought even thou couldst die;

Thy home was like a summer bower by thy joyful presence made,

But I only saw the sunshine, and I felt alone the shade.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with thy waving hair at

rest,

And thy busy little fingers folded lightly on thy

breast:

But thy merry dance is over, and thy little race is

run,

And the mirror that reflected two, can now give back but one.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with thy mother by thy side,

But her loveliness is faded, and quelled her glance of pride;

The smile is absent from her lips, and absent are the pearls,

And a cap almost of widowhood conceals her envied curls.

I saw thee in thy beauty! as I saw thee on that

day,

But the mirth that gladdened then thy home, fled

with thy life away;

E

I saw thee lying motionless upon th' accustomed

But

floor,

my

heart hath blinded both my eyes, and I can see no more!-Alaric, A. Watts.

DEATH EASY IN PROSPECT OF HEAVEN.

There is a land of pure delight

Where saints immortal reign,

Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting Spring abides,
And never withering flowers;
Death like a narrow sea divides
This heavenly land from ours.

Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dress'd in living green;

So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

While Jordan roll'd between.