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THE

CYPRESS WREATH:

BOOK OF CONSOLATION

FOR

THOSE WHO MOURN.

EDITED BY

REV. RUFUS W. GRISWOLD.

A twinéd wreath of grief and praise,
Praise soiled with tears, and tears again
Shining with joy.'

BOSTON:
GOULD, KENDALL & LINCOLN.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the vear 1844,

BY GOULD, KENDALL & LINCOLN, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the

District of Massachusetts.

PREFACE.

It is truth the poet sings, that “The sorrow of all sorrow is remembering happier things.'

There is no anguish like that of the mourner when he bends over the silent dead - the dead who in life have been the dearest - and feels that the eyes once beaming with kindness, the heart that once loved, and the lips that once praised, are closed and still forevermore. Then the ties which bind him to the world seem loosened; the pleasures of life pall; its gayeties, splendors, and ambitions become worthless in his eyes, and, in his unrest and deep disgust of earth,' he feels the need of the heavenly Comforter.

Religion is the sovereign remedy for every woe. Blessed are they who mourn, if in the day of sorrow they seek the true Consoler.

Next to prayer - best shield for all who are in any extremity - the occupation most profitable to the mind oppressed, is the perusal of holy books. • This is my comfort in my affliction,' said the pious David, for thy WORD hath quickened me.' Beside the Scriptures - abounding in the most touching and beautiful examples of that'obedient endurance which is peace' - our literature embraces many admirable discourses and poesies with a spiritual harmony,' addressed to the heartbroken and the desponding, who linger among the tombs. This little volume, the fruit of the editor's desultory reading while he was himself a mourner, it is hoped will leave upon the minds of others in like circumstances, some portion of that happy influence which its preparation had upon his own; leading them to view the FATHER'S dispensations with resignation, and to look more and more to the future life as the scene and source of blessedness. In the language of good old Henry Vaughan, it is

- a twinéd wreath of grief and pain,
Pain without tears, and tears again
Shining with joy, like dewy days.

Every sufferer may find in it some leaf or flower, whose fragrance shall calm the overflowing bursts of grief into tears of tender recollection,' and haply lead his soul to drink of the fountain of living waters.'

PHILADELPHIA.

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