FAREWELL.

And he shall go no more out. - Rev. 3: 12.

NAY, shrink not from the word, 'farewell!'
As 't were friendship's final knell;
Such fears may prove but vain:
So changeful is life's fleeting day,
Whene'er we sever- hope may say
We part to meet again!'

Even the last parting earth can know,
Brings not unutterable woe,

To souls that heavenward soar;
For humble faith with steadfast eye,
Points to a brighter world on high,
Where hearts that here at parting sigh,

May meet-to part no more.

THE DYING INFANT.

He shall tell thee what shall become of the child.—1 Kings 14: 3.

CEASE here longer to detain me,

Fondest mother, drowned in woe;

Now thy kind caresses pain me,

See yon orient streak appearing!
Harbinger of endless day;

Hark! a voice, the darkness cheering,
Calls my new-born soul away!

Lately launched, a trembling stranger,
On the world's wild boisterous flood;
Pierced with sorrows, tossed with danger,
Gladly I return to God.

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee; Now my trembling heart find rest; Kinder arms than thine receive me, Softer pillows than thy breast.

Weep not o'er these eyes that languish, Upward turning toward their home: Raptured they'll forget all anguish, While they wait to see thee come.

There my mother, pleasures centre;
Weeping, parting, care or woe,
Ne'er our father's house shall enter:
Morn advances—let me go.

As through this calm, this holy dawning, Silent glides my parting breath,

To an everlasting morning,

Gently close my eyes in death.

Blessings endless, richest blessings,
Pour their streams upon thine heart,
(Though no language yet possessing,)
Breathes my spirit ere we part.

Yet to leave thee sorrowing rends me,
Though again his voice I hear:
Rise! may every grace attend thee;
Rise! and seek to meet me there.

THE DYING DAUGHTER.

For it is better for me to die than to live.

-Jonah 4: 3.

My mother, look not on me now

With that sad, earnest eye:

Blame me not, mother; blame not thou

My heart's last wish to die.

I cannot wrestle with the strife
I once had heart to bear;
And if I yield a youthful life,
Full hath it been of care.

Nay, weep not; on my brow is set,
The age of grief, not years:
Its furrows thou mayest wildly wet,
But ne'er wash out with tears.

And could'st thou see my weary heart, Too weary even to sigh,

O! mother, mother, thou would'st start, And say, "'T were best to die.'

I know 't is summer on the earth,
I hear a pleasant tune

Of waters in their chiming mirth;
I feel the breath of June.

The roses through my lattice look;
The bee goes singing by;

The peasant takes his harvest hook-
Yet, mother, let me die.

There's nothing in this time of flowers, That hath a voice for me

The whispering leaves, the sunny hours, The bright, the glad, the free.

There's nothing but thy own deep love, And that will live on high;

Then, mother, now my heart's aboveKind mother, let me die.

15

IMMORTALITY.

If a man die, shall he live again? - Job 14: 14.

In the dust I'm doomed to sleep,
But shall not sleep forever;

for a moment weep,

Fear may

Years in rapid course shall roll,
By time's chariot driven,
And my re-awakened soul
Wing its flight to heaven.

What though o'er my mortal tomb,
Clouds and mists be blending?
Sweetest hope shall chase the gloom,
Hopes to heaven ascending.
These shall be my stay, my trust,
Ever bright and vernal; -
Life shall blossom out of dust,
Life and joy eternal.

THE POOR MAN'S DEATH-BED.

Yet no man remembered that same poor man. - Eccles. 9: 15.

TREAD Softly! bow the head,

In reverent silence bow!

No passing bell doth toll,

Yet an immortal soul

Is passing now.