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In moments when the soul is dim and dark
They come to bless,
After the vanities to which we hearkened. When weariness hath come upon the spirit(Those hours of darkness which we all inherit) Bursts there not through a glimpse of warm sun
A winged thought, which bids us not repine ?
In joy and gladness,
Life's angel brings,
Upon its wings,
The soul doth keep
So pure and deep.
ΧΧΙΙΙ. , “An inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, that fadeth not away."-1 Peter i. 4. THERE is a land, where everlasting suns Shed everlasting brightness—where the soul Drinks from the living streams of Love, that roll By God's high throne ;--myriads of glorious ones
Bring there th' accepted offering. O how blest
Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given me, be with me where I am.”—John xvii. 24.
When trembling on the awful bourn
Which bounds life's transitory stage, Tranquil my dying thoughts shall turn
Back on the well-spent pilgrimage : While visions, robed in glory bright,
Beam thro’ life's evening shade serene, From heaven's eternal isles of light;
What tho' the waters roll between ? The arm that oft hath saved, shall save;
Death has no terrors now for me. Where is thy sting, O where, thou grave ?
0, Death! where is thy victory ? Methinks I see the flow'rets bloom
Even now on Eden's vernal shore; Methinks I feel the breezes come
To waft the enfranchis'd prisoner o'er ; Methinks a light as soft as sweet
Smiles on me as the pale moon's ray; Methinks I heard the angels greet,
“Come hither, spirit, come!”—they say.
I hasten : as my eye grows dim,
And darkens on this fading sphere,
Wax more and more resplendent there ;
To the vain sounds of earthly art,
Of heaven, absorbs my raptur'd heart.
hither."-Rev. iv. 1. I HEAR the voices of the sons of light, Blending and circling round from sphere to sphere; Each star a chord of musicma wave's flow In the majestic sea of song that rolls In ceaseless tides of harmony, which know No rest-no discord. There departed souls Join the eternal chorus. Thence they speak To us poor pilgrims wandering still on earthThey bid us soar above earth’s vale—and seek The country, where our holier parts had birth, And whither they are tending. Father ! thither My eager heart aspires--and when this scene Fades round me, and its passing flow'rets wither, There let me rest, rewarded and serene.
“ Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." BEHOLD the western evening light,
It melts in deepest gloom;
Descending to the tomb.
Scarce whispers from the tree;
When good men cease to be.
The crimson light is shed ;
To mourners round his bed.
The sunset beam is cast;
When loved ones breathe their last.
The yellow star appears ;
Whose eyes are bathed with tears.