XXX.

THE DEPARTED.

UR hearts are faftened to the world
By strong and endless ties,

But

every forrow cuts a ftring, And urges us to rife.

When Heaven would kindly fet us free,
And earth's enchantment end;
It takes the most effectual means,

And robs us of a friend.

YOUNG.

XXXI.

THE DEPARTED.

OW is the ftately column broke;
The beacon light is quenched in smoke;

The trumpet's filver voice is ftill,

The warder filent on the hill.

XXXII.

HOLY SORROW.

OOD when He gives, fupremely good;
Nor lefs when He denies;

Afflictions, from His fovereign hand,
Are bleffings in disguise.

XXXIII.

HOLY SORROW.

H! weep not for the gathered rofe!
Oh! mourn not for the friend that

dies;

In beauty's breaft the flow'ret blows,
The foul is happy in the skies!

Weep not for thefe! but weep for them,

The unloved, the friendless, the unknown;

The flowers that wither on the stem,

The living that muft live alone!

XXXIV.

RELIGION.

ORE fweet than odours caught by him who fails

Near fpicy fhores of Araby the bleft,
A thousand times more exquifitely
fweet,

The freight of holy feeling which we meet,
In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales

From fields where good men walk, or bowers wherein they reft.

WORDSWORTH.

XXXV.

RELIGION.

LOVE to fee yon glorious Sun,
First tinge the Eaft with purple dye;
And then with glowing splendour run
Along the lofty azure sky.

I love to fee the Orb of night
Glide o'er her glittering ftarry way,
And with her brilliant filver light,
Upon the water's furface play.

But lovelier ftill than these appear
Religion's calm and flowery ways;
They foothe vain forrow, dry the tear,
And end with joy our earthly days.

XXXVI.

HEAVENLY JOYS.

JOW fading are the joys we dote upon! Like apparitions feen and gone; But those which fooneft take their flight, Are the moft exquifite and strong; Like angels' vifits, fhort and bright, Mortality's too weak to bear them long.

JOHN NORRIS, 17th Cent.

XXXVII.

HEAVENLY JOYS.

IN facred loneliness,

Apart from friends below,

Lord, in thy prefence I find blifs
Thou only canft bestow.

Alone how can I feel?

When faith's clear vifion feems like fight,

When Truth's eternal ftores reveal

To my glad heart delight.

Trembling, I feem to lie

So near the heavenly portals bright, I catch the ftreaming rays that fly From eternity's own light.

SARAH MARTIN.

Worldly Joys.-Praise.

227

XXXVIII.

WORLDLY JOYS.

UT pleasures are like poppies spread,
You feize the flower, its bloom is fhed;
Or like the fnow-falls on the river,

A moment white, then melts for ever;
Or like the Borealis race,

That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow's lovely form,
Evanishing amid the ftorm.

BURNS.

XXXIX.

PRAISE.

ERE every faultering tongue of man,
Almighty Father, filent in thy praise,
Thy works themfelves would raise a
general voice,

E'en in the depths of folitary woods
By human foot untrod-proclaim Thy power,
And to the Choir Celeftial Thee refound,
The eternal caufe, fupport, and end of all.