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MEMORY OF BISHOP HEBER.
If it be sad to speak of treasures gone,
Of sainted genius called too soon away,
Yet kindling onward to the perfect day-
Hath not thy voice been here amongst uş heard ?
And that deep soul of gentleness and power, Have we not felt its breath in every word,
Wont from thy lip,as Hermon's dew,to shower? Yes! in our hearts thy fervent thoughts have
burned Of heaven they were, and thither are returned.
How shall we mourn thee ?-With a lofty trust,
Our life's immortal birthright from above, With a glad faith, whose eye, to track the just, Through shades and mysteries lifts a glance of
of love, And yet can weep !-for Nature so deplores The friend that leaves us, though for happier And one high tone of triumph o'er thy bier,
One strain of solemn rapture be allowed,
Not to decay, but unto death hast bowed!
Praise, for yet one more name, with power en
To dwell there beautiful in holiness!