Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, But nothing he'll reck, if they let him sleep on But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock told the hour for retiring; And we heard the diftant and random gun Of the enemy fullenly firing. Slowly and fadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory. WOLFE. VI. DEPARTED FRIENDS. RIEND after friend departs; Who hath not loft a friend? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end; Were this frail world our final reft, Living or dying none were bleft. Beyond the flight of time Beyond the reign of death- There is a world above, Where parting is unknown- Formed for the good alone; Thus ftar by ftar declines, As morning high and higher fhines Nor fink thofe ftars in empty night, But hide themselves in Heaven's own light. R. MONTGOMERY. VII. THE DEPARTED MISSIONARY. HOU art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Though forrows and darkness encompass the tomb; The Saviour has paffed through its portal before thee, And the lamp of His love is thy guide through the gloom! Thou art gone to the grave! we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy fide; But the wide arms of Mercy are fpread to enfold thee, And finners may die, for THE SINLESS has died! Thou art gone to the grave! and, its manfion forfaking, Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Whofe God was thy ranfom, thy guardian and guide: He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee; And death has no fting, for the Saviour has died! BISHOP HEBER. VIII. THE DEPARTED CHILD. ND haft thou fought thy heavenly home, The realms where forrow dare not come, Where life is joy? Pure at thy death as at thy birth, Thy fpirit caught no taint from earth, Ev'n by its blifs we meet our dearth, Defpair was in our last farewell, As closed thine eye; Cafa Wappy! Tears of our anguish may not tell When thou didst die; Words may not paint our grief for thee, Of our unfathomed agony, Cafa Wappy! Thou wert a vifion of delight, To bless us given; Beauty embodied to our fight, So dear to us thou wert, thou art, Of mine, and of thy mother's heart, Cafa Wappy! Thy bright brief day knew no decline, 'Twas cloudlefs joy; Sunrise and night alone were thine, Beloved boy! This morn beheld thee blithe and gay, That found thee proftrate in decay ; Cafa Wappy Gem of our hearth, our household pride, Could love have faved, thou hadst not died, Our dear, fweet child! Humbly we bow to fate's decree, Yet had we hoped that time should fee Thee mourn for us, not us for thee, Cafa Wappy! Do what I may, go where I will, Thou meet'ft my fight; There doft thou glide before me ftill I feel thy breath upon my cheek, Cafa Wappy! Ev'n to the last, thy every word, Was sweet, as sweetest song of bird, On fummer's eve; In outward beauty undecayed, Death o'er thy fpirit caft no fhade, And like the rainbow thou didst fade, Cafa Wappy! We mourn for thee when blind blank night We pine for thee when morn's first light Reddens the hills: The fun, the moon, the stars, the sea, All, to the wall-flower and wild-pea, Are changed; we saw the world through thee, Cafa Wappy! And though, perchance, a smile may gleam Of cafual mirth; It doth not own, whate'er may seem, An inward birth. |