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1068.

8s & 6s.
1. I Ask not now for gold to gild,

With mocking shine, an aching frame;
The yearning of the mind is stilled-

I ask not now for fame.
2. But, bowed in lowliness of mind,

I make my humble wishes known;
I only ask a will resigned,

O Father, to Thine own.
3. In vain I task my aching brain,

In vain the sage's thoughts I scan;
I only feel how weak I

am,
How
poor

and blind is man.
4. And now my spirit sighs for home.

And longs for light whereby to see;
And, like a weary child, would come,

O Father, unto Thee.

WHITTIER.

1069.

L. M.
1. No bitter tears for thee be shed,

Blossom of being ! seen and gone!
With flowers alone we strew thy bed,

O, ever dear, departed one!
Whose all of life-a rosy ray,

Blushed into dawn, and passed away. 2. O! hadst thou still on earth remain'd,

Vision of beauty! fair as brief !
How soon thy brightness had been stain'd

With passion or with grief !
Now, not a sullying breath can rise
To dim thy glory in the skies.

1070.

L. M.
1. On! if there be an hour that brings

The breath of Heaven upon its wings,
To light the heart, and glad the eye,
With glimpses of eternity;
It is the hour of mild decay,
The sunset of the holy day.

2. For then to earth a light is given,

Fresh flowing from the gates of heaven;
And then on every breeze we hear
Angelic voices whispering near;
Through vailing shades glance seraph eyes,
One step—and all were paradise !

1071.

L. M. 1. CLOSE softly, fondly, while ye weep, His

eyes, that death may seern like sleep, And fold his hands in sign of rest,

His waxen hands, across his breast.
2. And make his grave where violets hide,

Where star-flowers strew the rivulets side,
And blue-birds in the misty spring

Of cloudless skies and summer sing.
3. But we shall mourn him long, and miss

His ready smile, his ready kiss,
The prattle of his little feet,

Sweet frowns and stammered phrases sweet ; 4. And graver looks, serene and high,

A light of heaven in that young eye,
All these shall haunt us till the heart

Shall ache and ache-and tears will start. 5. But not his nobler part shall dwell

A prisoner in this narrow cell;
For he, whom now we hide from men

In the dark ground, shall live again;
6. Shall break these clods, a form of light,

With nobler mien and purer sight,
And in the eternal glory stand,
Highest and nearest God's right hand.

BRYANT,

1072.

L. M.
1. As the sweet flower that scents the morn,

But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,

Thus swiftly fled its life away.

CUNNINGHAM.

2. It died cre its expanding soul

Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,

Or ever quenched its sacred fires. 3. Yet the sad hour that took the boy

Perhaps has spared a heavier doom-
Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy,

Or from the pangs of ill to come. 4. He died to sin; he died to care;

But for a moment felt the rod;
Then, rising on the viewless air,

Spread his light wings, and soared to God. 1073.

L. M. (Part 1)
1. Of all the thoughts of God, that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep-
Now tell me if that

any

is,
For gift or grace surpassing this

“He giveth His beloved sleep?" 2. His dews drop mutely on the hillHis cloud above it saileth still

Though on its slope men toil and reap;
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or cloud is floated overhead,

“ He giveth His beloved sleep."
3. And friends, dear friends! when it shall be,
That this low breath is

gone

from meWhen round

my

bier ye come to weep;
Let one, most loving of you all,
Say—“Not a tear must o'er her fall,

“He giveth His beloved sleep."

MRS. BROWNING,

1074.

L.M. (Part 2)
1. What would we give to our beloved ?
The hero's heart to be unmoved-

The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep
The senate's shout to patriot vows-
The monarch's crown to light the brows?

“He giveth His beloved sleep.”

2. “Sleep soft, beloved !" we sometimes say,
But have no power to charm away

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep;
But never doleful dream again
Shall break their happy slumber, when

"He giveth His beloved sleep."
3. O earth, so full of dreary noise !
O men, with wailing in your voice!

O delved gold, the wailer's heap!
O strife, O curse, that o’er it fall!
God makes a silence through you all,

And giveth his beloved sleep!
4. Yea! men may wonder while they scan-
A living, thinking, feeling man

In such a rest his heart to keep!
But angels say—and through the word,
I ween, their blessed smile is heard-

“He giveth His beloved sleep."

MRS. BROWNING.

1075.

L. M.

1. The mourners came, at break of day,

Unto the garden sepulcher,
With saddened hearts, to weep

and

pray For him, the loved one, buried there. What radiant light dispels the gloom ?

An angel sits beside the tomb.
2. The earth doth mourn her treasures lost,

All sepulcher'd beneath the snow,
When wintry winds and chilling frost

Have laid her summer glories low;
The spring returns, the flow'rets bloom

An angel sits beside the tomb.
3. Then mourn we not, beloved dead,
E'en while we come to weep

and

pray ;
The happy spirit hath but fled

To brighter realms of heavenly day;
Immortal hope dispels the gloom-
An angel sits beside the tomb.

8. F. ADAMS.

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1. Ar evening time, let there be light;

Life's little day draws near its close;
Around me fall the shades of night,

The night of death, the grave's repose ;

To crown my joys, to end my woes,
At evening time, let there be light.
2. At evening time, let there be light;

Stormy and dark hath been my day;
Yet rose the morn divinely bright-

Dews, birds, and blossoms, cheered the way;

O, for one sweet, one parting ray-
At evening time, let there be light.
3. At evening time, there shall be light,

For God hath spoken-it must be ;
Fear, doubt, and anguish take their flight,

His glory now is risen on me;
Mine eyes shall His salvation see;
'Tis evening time--and there is light.

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1. On! strange infirmity! to think
That He will leave my soul to sink

In hopeless darkness and distress-
Who has appeared in times of old,
Who saved me while the billows rolled,

And cheered me with His loving grace.

2. What sweeter pledge could God bestow,
Of help in future scenes of woe,

Than grace and joy already given?
But unbelief, that hateful thing,
Oft makes me sigh, when I should sing

Of peace and confidence in heaven!

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