last day, rise up glorified from the dust, reunited to her spirit, never more to fade, but to bloom in grace and beauty forever in the everlasting spring of Heaven.

We have all then, brethren, much to comfort us in our sorrow. We have comfort in the pure and lovely example of her whom we mourn. We have comfort in the Holy Scriptures given for our learning; given to teach us that all who live and who die in the Lord, shall rise triumphant in Him; and washed in the blood of Him, the lamb slain upon the cross, yet conqueror over death, and victor over the tomb, shall reign with him forever.

Let us go through, then, the melancholy obsequies of this day, sorrowing as becomes us as men and Christians, but not despairing; bowed down, but not unnerved and unfitted for life's duties. In the weakness that may overcome us, God will doubtless, in due time, perfect his strength. And that strength we all need. For life has its imperative duties, and they must be discharged. We have all duties to our families, to our church, to society, to our professions and our country, and to perform all of them well, and in their due proportion, is religion. Whatever our hands find to do, in our several spheres of action, God himself requires that we shall do it with our might. We must not, therefore, any of us yield too much to our griefs. Let us honor the dead, let us lay them in the tomb with nature's involuntary tears, but let us not forget the living. St. Paul calls the Christian life a warfare. And so it is. It is one perpetual battle. We are all the time on the march, and our companions in arms are all the time falling at our side. We may miss them, and we may mourn for

them, as they drop one by one away, but we must not halt through exclusive sorrow for a moment. Till we ourselves are struck down, we must still advance onward, like good soldiers of the cross, looking unto Jesus, the great Captain of our salvation, the author and fin isher of our faith. When there is so much to be done; when there are so many foes without and within to combat; when there are so many virtues and graces to be practised, and so many sins to be repented of and abjured; when there are so many demands upon our watchfulness, our self-denial, and our courage in the path of duty, we have scarcely time to weep abundantly over the most lovely and beloved. There will be a full opportunity for this when we are at rest. Then there will be time for tears; but they will not be the tears of sorrow, but of joy. Joy like that of the departed

saint whose mortal remains we are about to surrender to earth. Joy that the warfare and the battle of human life are all over; that the conquest is won; that the crown, and the palm, and the white robe, are to be henceforth for ever worn, and the harp is to be for ever strung, through Him and to Him, the Lamb that died upon the cross, and rose from the tomb, and lives and reigns to ransom and to bless all who rely upon his precious blood for salvation!

3

PREFACE.

POETRY is conceived to be the language of feeling, addressed to the imagination and the heart. Its proper objects, therefore, are the grand and beautiful in nature or in morals, and the human affections in general; but especially those which most attach man to his Creator and to his fellow-man,-religion, patriotism, friendship, and love. It is with these ideas of Poetry that the following lines have been written, mostly as the amusement of leisure or lonely hours. They are now offered to the public, and particularly to the writer's personal friends, with diffidence; but not without hope that they may repay a perusal, and perhaps suggest some interesting train of reflection. Whatever may be their faults of style or deficiencies of subject, it is hoped that they contain nothing which can tarnish the mind, or win it from the ways of virtue and happiness. If they do not rather tend to warm and mend the heart, and to raise it above earth's cares and sorrows, they will have failed of their object. With this brief explanation of the spirit in which they were written, and are now published, the writer submits them to their fate.

Thus far this Preface was printed, as an introduction to a small volume of Poems, published in Philadelphia in 1836. Most of those Poems are here repeated; a few only having been rejected, which the author's more mature judgment would now deem too trivial, or too juvenile, to be worth retaining. If the additional Poems in the present volume do not greatly increase its value, their writer is sadly in error. It only remains to add that the Mission of the Gospel was written for "The Religious Offering," published in Philadelphia in 1840; The Two Dreams of Mohammed were composed for "The Memento," published in New York in 1844; and the poem on The Snow, was written for "The Ever green," a New York Church Periodical, in 1848. Life and Death was composed, by special invitation, for the Jubilee Celebration, at Oxford Academy, New York, in 1854, but has since been expanded by that portion which relates to the great Battles of the civilized world. And the leading Poem of the volume, Jerusalem, was all written, save one page, in the month of January, 1856, without interrupting the author's collegiate duties; with the special object, and an earnest desire, to render this little work a more worthy tribute to the memory of her, who still lives more vividly then ever, in her husband's bleeding heart.