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

Casa Wappy!

Snows muffled earth when thou did'It go,

In life's spring-bloom,
Down to the appointed house below -

The silent tomb.
But now the green leaves on the tree,
The cuckoo, and “the busy bee,”
Return—but with them bring not thee,

Casa 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 grass renewed should yearly wave,
Yet God forget our child to save ?

Casa Wappy!


It cannot be ; for were it so,

Thus man could die,
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,

Casa Wappy!

· Yes, 'tis sweet balm to our despair,

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 stream for ever flows ;
And pleasure's day no sunset knows,

Casa Wappy!


Farewell, then, for a while, farewell,
Pride of

It cannot be that long we dwell

Thus torn apart :
Time's shadows like the shuttle flee,
And dark howe'er life's night may be,
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee,

Casa Wappy!





JIVE me the Priest these graces shall

possess :-
Of an Ambassador the first address;
A Father's tenderness; a Shepherd's

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


A Fisher's patience, and a Labourer's toil;
A Guide's dexterity to disembroil ;
A Prophet's inspiration from above,
A Teacher's knowledge, and a Saviour's love.




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HOLINESS on the head;

Light and perfections on the breast; Harmonious bells below, raising the

dead. To lead them unto life and rest ;

Thus are true Aarons drest.


Profaneness in my head ;
Defects and darkness in my breast;
A noise of passions ringing me, for dead,
Unto a place where is no reft,

Poor Priest ! thus am I drest.

Only another Head
I have ; another heart and breast;
Another music, making live, not dead !
Without Whom I could have no reft :-

In Him I am well drest.

Christ is my only Head ;
My alone, only heart and breast;
My only music, striking me e'en dead,
That to the old man I may rest,

And be in Him new drest.

So, holy in my head;
Perfect and light in my dear breast;
My doctrine tuned by Christ, who is not dead,
But lives in me, while I do rest :-
Come, people ; Aaron's drest.




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

call 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.

His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed,
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed :
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.
As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.




EEK and lowly, pure and holy,

Chief amongst the blessed three, Turning fadness into gladness,

Heaven-born art thou, Charity!
Pity dwelleth in thy bosom,

Kindness reigneth o'er thy heart,
Gentle thoughts alone can sway thee,

Judgment hath in thee no part.


Hoping ever, failing never,

Though deceived believing still,
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 dost all alike befriend.

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