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DIRGE OF A CHILD.

No bitter tears for thee be shed,
Blossom of being! seen and gone!
With flowers alone we strew thy bed,
O blest departed one!

Whose all of life, a rosy ray,

Blushed into dawn, and passed away.

Yes! thou art fled, ere guilt had power
To stain thy cherub soul and form;
Closed is the soft ephemeral flower,
That never felt a storm!

The sun-beam's smile, the zephyr's breath,
All that it knew from birth to death.

Thou wert so like a form of light,

That Heaven benignly called thee hence Ere yet the world could breathe one blight O'er thy sweet innocence :

And thou, that brighter home to bless,
Art passed with all thy loveliness!

Oh, hadst thou still on earth remained,
Vision of beauty! fair, as brief!
How soon thy brightness had been stained

With passion or with grief!

Now not a sullying breath can rise
To dim thy glory in the skies.

We rear no marble o'er thy tomb,

No sculptured image there shall mourn; Ah! fitter far the vernal bloom

Such dwelling to adorn.

Fragrance, and flowers, and dews, must be
The only emblems meet for thee.

Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine,
Adorned with nature's brightest wreath;
Each glowing season shall combine
Its incense there to breathe;
And oft upon the midnight air,

Shall viewless harps be murmuring there.

And oh! sometimes in visions blest,
Sweet spirit! visit our repose,

And bear from thine own world of rest,
Some balm for human woes !

What form more lovely could be given
Than thine, as messenger of Heaven ?

MRS HEMANS.

NOT for the babe that sleepeth here
My tears bestow, my sorrows give, —
Pass on, and weep with grief sincere

For those who innocence outlive.

THE LENT JEWELS.

IN schools of wisdom all the day was spent:
His steps at eve the Rabbi homeward bent,
With homeward thoughts which dwelt

wife

upon the

And two fair children who consoled his life.
She, meeting at the threshold, led him in,
And, with these words preventing, did begin:-
"Ever rejoicing at your wished return,
Yet am I most so now; for since this morn
I have been much perplexed and sorely tried
Upon one point which you shall now decide.
Some years ago, a friend into my care

Some jewels gave- rich, precious gems they

were;

But having given them in my charge, this friend
Did afterward nor come for them, nor send,
But left them in my keeping for so long,
That now it almost seems to me a wrong
That he should suddenly arrive to-day,
To take those jewels, which he left, away.
What think you? Shall I freely yield them
back,

And with no murmuring, so henceforth to lack
Those gems myself, which I had learned to see
Almost as mine forever, mine in fee?"

"What question can be here? Your own true heart

Must needs advise you of the only part:

That may be claimed again which was but lent,
And should be yielded with no discontent.
Nor surely can we find herein a wrong,
That it was left us to enjoy so long."

"Good is the word," she answered; "may we

now

And ever more that it is good allow!"
And, rising, to an inner chamber led,

And there she showed him, stretched upon one bed,

Two children pale! and he the jewels knew, Which God had lent him, and resumed anew.

R. C. TRENCH.

AN INFANT'S EPITAPH.

BENEATH this stone an infant lies,
To earth her body's lent:
More glorious she 'll hereafter rise,
Though not more innocent.

When the archangel's trump shall blow,

And souls to bodies join,

Millions will wish their lives below

Had been as short as thine.

O MOURN NOT, FOND MOTHER.

O MOURN not, fond mother, the joys that depart,

There is comfort and peace for the stricken in

heart;

God has taken the spirit that basked in thy love, "The beautiful angels " have borne it above.

The plant that you reared to smile on earth's gloom,

Has fastened its roots in the soil of the tomb

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It smiled in your garden, so bright and so fair, It has climbed o'er the wall, and is blossoming there.

The gem that you wore with pride on your breast,

Adorns with its light the land of the blest;

The rose still is fragrant, though broke from the stem,

The setting is ruined, but safe is the gem.

Then gird thee to labor, to trial and love,
The treasure once thine shall await thee above;
Be faithful, be earnest, night soon will be riven,
And the lost ones of earth, be thy jewels in

heaven.

REV. S. F. SMITH.

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