Too certain fate my hopes consumed, She died deserving to be mourn'd, While parted worth a pang can give. She died-by Heaven's best gifts adorn'd, While folly, falsehood, baseness, live. Long in their baseness live secure The noxious weed, and wounding thorn; While, snatch'd by violence ere mature, The lily from her stem is torn. Yet who shall blame the heart that feels When Heaven resumes the good it gave? Yet who shall scorn the tear that falls From Friendship's eye, at Virtue's grave? Friend, parent, sister-tenderest names! Long on the joys of vanish'd years Shall mourn thy bloom for ever past. And thou, who from the orient day Return'st, with hope's gay dreams elate, Falsely secure and vainly gay, Unconscious of the stroke of fate,— What waits thee? Not the approving smile Despair!-I see the phantom roye On Cail's green banks, no longer bright, And fiercely grasp the torch of love, And plunge it in sepulchral night. Farewell, sweet maiden; at thy tomb My silent footstep oft shall stray; More dear to me its hallow'd gloom, Than life's broad glare, and fortune's day. And oft, as Fancy paints thy bier, And mournful eyes thy lowly bed, The secret sigh shall rise, the tear That shuns observance shall be shed. Nor shall the thoughts of thee depart, Be cold and motionless as thine. SABBATH EVENING. Edmonston. Is there a time when moments flow More lovelily than all beside? It is, of all the times below, A sabbath eve in summer tide. O! then the setting sun smiles fair; And then the peace that Jesus beams, The life of grace, the death of sin, With nature's placid woods and streams, Is peace without, and peace within. Delightful scene! a world at rest, If heaven be ever felt below, A scene so heavenly sure as this D May cause a heart on earth to know Delightful hour! how soon will night Yet will there dawn at last the day, EARLY RISING AND PRAYER. Bernard Barton. WHEN first thy opening eyes receive Give thy awakening spirit leave To be as blest as they. Our outward organs well may Its duty to the soul; teach And thoughts ascend, that need not speech, Unto their heavenly goal. For hearts, whose love to God is true, As flowers impearl'd with morning dew Their tenderest tints display. Give God thy waking thoughts, that He, Throughout the day, may keep Thy spirit company, and be Its guardian while asleep. Yet sleep not when the sun has risen, And holiest thoughts, set free from prison, There are appointed hours between To mar their blest design. The manna's heavenly charm was gone Then let not needless slumber glut Morn's glories by its sin; |