THE HAPPY DEATH.

Dear as thou wert, and justly dear,

We will not weep for thee;

One thought shall check the starting tear,

It is that thou art free.

And thus shall faith's consoling power

The tears of love restrain;

Oh! who that saw thy parting hour
Could wish thee back again!

Triumphant in thy closing eye
The hope of glory shone,

Joy breath'd in thy expiring sigh
To think the fight was won.

Gently the passing spirit fled,
Sustain'd by grace divine;

Oh! may that grace on me be shed,

And make my end like thine.-Anon.

THOU ART GONE TO THE GRAVE.

Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;

Thy Saviour has pass'd through its portals before thee

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom?

Thou art gone to the grave! we no longer behold thee,

Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side,

But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,

And sinners may die, for the Sinless has died.

Thou art gone to the grave! and its mansion forsaking,

Perchance thy weak spirit in fear lingered long,

But the mild rays of paradise beam'd on thy

waking,

And the sound which thou heard'st was the Seraphim's song.

Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee,

Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian and guide!

He gave thee, he took thee, and he will restore thee,

And death has no sting-for the Saviour has

died..

Heber.

A MOTHER'S RESIGNATION.

I think of thee, but 'tis with grief no longer;
I number thee among my children still,

Though parted in the flesh, by God's high will,

I feel

my

soul's deep love for thee grow stronger :

Like one of old, I glory to have given

Out of my flock, an angel unto Heaven.—Anon.

THEY LEAVE US ONE BY ONE.

Ever thus

Drop from us treasures one by one,
They who have been from youth with us :
Whose every look, whose every tone

Is linked to us, like leaves to flowers.
They who have shared our pleasant hours,
Whose voices so familiar grown,
They almost seem to us our own,
The echo of each breath of ours,

They who have ever been our pride;
Yet in their hour of triumph dearest,

They whom we most have known and tried,
And loved the most when tried the nearest,

They pass from us like stars that wane

The brighter still before;

As gold links broken from a chain,

That can be joined no more.-Mrs. Hemans.

A SIMILE.

Where time has rent the lordly tower,
And moss entwines the arches grey,
Springs many a light and lovely flower,
That lends a lustre to decay.
Thus while existence wanes away,
Consumption's feverish cheeks will bloom,
And beauty's brightest beams will play
In mournful glory o'er the tomb.-Dale.

A MOTHER LAMENTING HER CHILDREN.

Ye were mine, flesh and soul; mine, oh, my children!

A portion of myself is torn away;

The breath of life seems stifled in our parting,
And death-like darkness clouds my lonely day!
A chill-sick shudder thrills my yearning bosom,
Where never more your gentle arms shall twine!
The memory of your voices doubles anguish,
Your voices that no longer answer mine.