THE DEPARTED.

THE friends we love have passed away;
The forms so dear no more we see ;
No more we meet the eye's mild ray,
Or catch the smile of sympathy.

No-these are fled; but ask thy heart,
Are no fond traces lingering there,-
Memories we would not bid depart,

And hopes that bless our hour of prayer?

Is not the dream of heaven more sweet,
Bright with the living forms of love?
Does not each trial that we meet

Raise our rapt spirits more above?

Yes! death, that pales our curdling cheek,
Tells of an angel's opening bliss-
Again we view the form we seek,
Bright with immortal happiness.

For faith delighted views that scene
Of fadeless glory and of grace,
Forgets the years that intervene,

And bids us see them "face to face."

What though a few brief ills of life,

A little pathway marked with tears, Some struggles of the Christian strife Await us in those future years ;—

Soon, soon they pass; and even now Those angel forms may guard our way, Weave the blest chaplet for our brow,

And guide our footsteps lest they stray.

In every thought to heaven allied,
In every virtuous deed and aim,
Are the departed at our side,

Whose memory fans the sacred flame.

And is this death? first born to God,
To trace that pure celestial sphere,
And rise in faith and hope unawed,
To joys we scarce can vision here?

Oh early blest-how vain our sighs,
Our fond, impetuous tears how vain ;
To heaven we raise our weeping eyes.→→
Our loss is their eternal gain.

DEATH AND SLEEP.

THE angel of sleep and the angel of death were journeying arm in arm on the earth. Evening drew on. They seated themselves on a hill not far from the habitations of men. A solemn silence reigned around, and the evening bell in the distant village ceased to be heard.

Tranquil and silent as it is their nature to be, these two benefactors of mortals sat in fraternal embrace, and night already approached.

The angel of sleep then rose from his mossy seat, and strewed with delicate hand the invisible germs of slumber. The evening breezes wafted them to the peaceful habitations of the weary husbandmen. Sweet slumbers now fell upon the inmates of the rustic dwellings, from the aged,

58

DEATH AND SLEEP.

whose tottering steps are supported by a
staff, to the infant in the cradle. The
sick forgot their pains, the afflicted their
sorrows, and poverty its cares.
All eyes

were closed.

Having performed his task, the kindly angel of sleep resumed his seat beside his graver brother. When the morning dawn awakes, cried he with joyous innocence, then will men praise me as their friend and benefactor! O how delightful to do good secretly and unseen! How happy are we invisible ministers of the Most High! How pleasing the silent duty which we are charged to perform!

Thus spake the benevolent angel of sleep.

The angel of death surveyed him with silent melancholy, and tears, such as immortals weep, started into his large dark eyes. Ah! said he, why am I not destined, like thee, to receive the tribute of joyful gratitude? Mortals regard me as their enemy and the destroyer of their pleasures.

5

Oh, my brother, replied the angel of sleep, will not the good, when they awake, acknowledge and thankfully bless thee as their friend and benefactor? Are not we brothers and servants of one Father?

He spoke, and the eyes of the angel of death glistened, and the brother spirits clasped each other in a tender embrace.

IMMORTALITY.

Oh, never shall my soul the thoughts forego,
Of high and pure intent, that lead me on
To virtue's heights, and the immortal crown,
Wreathed of the flowers that in heaven's garden grow.
What though I tread a path of tears and woe,

Nor mortal joy attendant on my way,

The light of hope shall 'mid the darkness play
And purer pleasures teach my heart to glow.
I long to join the blissful band on high,

The spirits of the just, who overcame
The bonds of sin, and whose undying fame
Shall guide me to their glorious destiny.
Then shrink not, Oh my soul! but undismayed,
Seek for the crown of life which will not fade.