Mozart's Requiem.-Rurus DAWES. THE tongue of the vigilant clock tolled one, The shrouded moon looked out upon A cold, dank region, more cheerless and dun, Mozart now rose from a restless bed, He knelt to the God of his worship then, He was tall, the stranger who gazed on him, His cheek was pale, and his eye was dim, "Mozart, there is one whose errand I bear, Who cannot be known to thee; He grieves for a friend, and would have thee prepare A requiem, blending a mournful air With the sweetest melody." "I'll furnish the requiem then," he cried, Mozart grew pale when the vision fled, He knew 'twas a messenger sent from the dead, He knew that the days of his life were told, The blood through his bosom crept slowly and cold, The flame that was flickering. Yet he went to his task with a cheerful zeal, He spoke not, he moved not, but only to kneel 'Tis best thy will be done!" He gazed on his loved one, who cherished him well, "This music will chime with my funeral knell, The cold moon waned: on that cheerless day, "I will be glad in the Lord." Psalm civ. 34.— ANONYMOUS. WHEN morning's first and hallowed ray To chase the pearly dews away, Bright tear-drops of the night, My heart, O Lord, forgets to rove, On wings of everlasting love, And finds its home in THEE. When evening's silent shades descend, And nature sinks to rest, Still to my Father and my Friend My wishes are addressed. Though tears may dim my hours of joy., THOU reign'st where grief cannot annoy; And e'en when midnight's solemn gloom, I dream of that fair land, O Lord, To the Memory of a Brother.-ANONYMOUS BEHOLD the glorious morn! and where art thou, And stand, with the spring flowers about thee wakung Were these to thee a weariness-the birds, A mother's love, whose holy influence fell, "Young brother!" had the sound no joy for thee, O, there be yearnings for thee, gentlest one, Gone with thy grace and thy sweet laughter's tone. Meet were thy footsteps for the world of flowers, Of the crowned summer's reign; And thou within the silent grave art laid, And there are dancing o'er the joyous earth The clasping of thy gentle hand, thou child, But I will speak of thee at eventide, When, in their watchfulness, the pure stars glide And when, alas! shall come the morning's gleam I will remember, and the dream shall be And I will deem thou'rt standing even now, A Home everywhere.-S. GRAHAM. HEAVE, mighty ocean, heave, And blow, thou boisterous wind; Away, away we steer, Upon the ocean's breast; And dim the distant heights appear, Like clouds along the west. There is a loneliness Upon the mighty deep; And hurried thoughts upon us press, Our home-0, heavens-that word! My wife and little one Are with me as I go; And they are all, beneath the sun, I have of weal or wo. With them, upon the sea Heave, mighty ocean, heave, And blow, thou boisterous wind: Where'er we go, we cannot leave Our home and friends behind. Then come, my lovely bride, Since we have nought on earth beside, We heed not earthly powers, We heed not wind nor weather; For, come what will, this joy is ours- And if the storms are wild, And we perish in the sea, We'll clasp each other and our child: And neither shall remain To meet, and bear alone, The cares, the injuries, the pain, And there's a sweeter joy, Danger nor death can e'er destroy Then wherefore should we grieve? Or what have we to fear? Though home, and friends, and life, we leave, Our God is ever near. |