We miss thy fmall step on the ftair,
We miss thee at thine evening prayer;
All day we miss thee, everywhere,

Cafa Wappy!

Snows muffled earth when thou did❜ft go,

In life's fpring-bloom,

Down to the appointed house below.

The filent tomb.

But now the green leaves on the tree,
The cuckoo, and "the bufy bee,"
Return-but with them bring not thee,
Cafa Wappy!

'Tis fo; but can it be-(while flowers Revive again) -

Man's doom, in death that we and ours

For aye remain ?

Oh! can it be, that, o'er the grave,

The grafs renewed fhould yearly wave,

Yet God forget our child to fave?

It cannot be; for were it so,

Thus man could die,

Cafa Wappy!

Life were a mockery-thought were woe

And truth a lie;

Heaven were a coinage of the brain

Religion frenzy-virtue vain

And all our hopes to meet again,

Cafa Wappy!

Yes, 'tis fweet balm to our defpair,

Fond, faireft boy;

That Heaven is God's, and thou art there
With Him in joy:

There past are death and all its woes;
There beauty's ftream for ever flows;
And pleasure's day no funfet knows,

Cafa Wappy!

Farewell, then, for a while, farewell,

Pride of my heart;

It cannot be that long we dwell

Thus torn apart :

Time's fhadows like the fhuttle flee,
And dark howe'er life's night may be,
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee,

Cafa Wappy!

MOIR.

IX.

THE PASTOR.

IVE me the Prieft thefe graces fhall
poffefs :-

Of an Ambaffador the firft address ;
A Father's tendernefs; a Shepherd's

care;

A Leader's courage, who the cross can bear;
A Ruler's awe; a Watchman's wakeful eye;
A Pilot's fkill, the helm in ftorms to ply;

K

A Fisher's patience, and a Labourer's toil;
A Guide's dexterity to difembroil;

A Prophet's infpiration from above,

A Teacher's knowledge, and a Saviour's love.

BISHOP KEN.

X.

THE PASTOR.

OLINESS on the head;

Light and perfections on the breaft; Harmonious bells below, raifing the dead,

To lead them unto life and reft;-
Thus are true Aarons dreft.

Profanenefs in my head;

Defects and darknefs in my breaft;
A noife of paffions ringing me, for dead,
Unto a place where is no reft,-
Poor Prieft! thus am I drest.

Only another Head

I have; another heart and breaft;
Another music, making live, not dead!
Without Whom I could have no reft :-
In Him I am well dreft.

Chrift is my only Head;

My alone, only heart and breast;
My only mufic, ftriking me e'en dead,
That to the old man I may reft,
And be in Him new dreft.

So, holy in my head;

Perfect and light in my dear breaft;

My doctrine tuned by Chrift, who is not dead,
But lives in me, while I do reft :-

Come, people; Aaron's dreft.

GEORGE HERBERT.

XI.

THE PASTOR.

HUS to relieve the wretched was his pride,

And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's

fide;

But in his duty prompt, at every
He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all :
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
At Church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.

call

His ready fmile a parent's warmth expreffed,
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares diftreffed :
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his ferious thoughts had reft in Heaven.
As fome tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the ftorm,
Though round its breaft the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal funshine fettles on its head.

GOLDSMITH.

XII.

LOVE.

EEK and lowly, pure and holy,
Chief amongst the blessed three,
Turning sadness into gladness,
Heaven-born art thou, Charity!

M

Pity dwelleth in thy bofom,
Kindness reigneth o'er thy heart,
Gentle thoughts alone can fway thee,
Judgment hath in thee no part.

Hoping ever, failing never,

Though deceived believing ftill,
Long abiding, all confiding

To thy Heavenly Father's will.

Never weary of well doing,
Never fearful of the end,
Claiming all mankind as brothers,

Thou doft all alike befriend.