THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 219 THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. "I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth."-Revelation xiv. 13. How blest the righteous when he dies! How mildly beam the closing eyes! So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; Esus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. God hath both raised up the Lord, and will also raise up us by his own power. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall habe put on incorruption, and this mortal shall habe put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in bictory. death, where is thy sting? O grabe, where is thy bictory? The sting of death is sin and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which gibeth us the bictory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with Him in glory. Ah, 'tis like a tale of olden Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise. Between two breaths, what crowded mysteries lie! But, ever and anon, of griefs subdued Cheeks as soft as July peaches Page Bishop Heber 47 Rogers 122 O. W. Holmes W. C. Bennett . Come, while the blossoms of the years are brightest W. G. Clark Hail, young disciple !-thou whose early feet. He that holds fast the golden mean High thoughts at first, and visions high. How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth. Mrs. Sigourney. Southey Shakespeare 187 How poor! how rich! how abject! how august. . I fear the shame I must incur, forgetting Howard's I have a son, a little son, a boy just five years old Moultrie . 43 Wordsworth. 73 I love to look on a scene like this N. P. Willis 59 I mourn no more my vanished years. If thou dost truly seek to live . In all my wanderings round this world of care In the same brook none ever bathed him twice. It is a beauteous evening, calm and free 35 It was an eve of Autumn's holiest mood Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes My friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime . King. Bryant Shakespeare. Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled . O happy day, that fixed my choice O my coevals! remnants of yourselves!. 201 80 136 132 139 87 181 22 INDEX OF FIRST LINES OF POETRY. 223 Page Oh! the day is very bright, father, as lovely as the One of this mood I do remember well. On this side, and on that, men see their friends. Our sighs were numerous, and profuse our tears Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause Sailing upon life's dangerous sea She dwelt among the untrodden ways Slow glides the Nile: amid the margin flags Stand but your ground, your ghostly foes will fly Tell me not in mournful numbers The band of Commerce was designed The boy stood on the burning deck The day arrives, the moment wished and feared. The lapse of time and rivers is the same Th' unbusied shepherd stretched beneath the hawthorn . This is a curl of our poor Splendid's hair There is a reaper, whose name is Death They are all gone into a world of light They knelt them side by side; the hoary man |