7 I am Joseph; doth my father yet live? And his brethren could not answer him; for they were troubled at his presence. 4 And Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you and they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. 5 Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that you sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life. 6 For these two years hath the famine been in the land; and yet there are five years, in the which there shall be neither earing nor harvest. And God sent me before you, to preserve you a posterity in the earth, and to save your lives by a great deliverance. 8 So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God : and he hath made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a ruler throughout all the land of Egypt. 9 Haste ye, and go up to my father, and say unto him, Thus saith thy son Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt; come down unto me, tarry not: 10 And thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto me, thou, and thy children, and thy children's children, and thy flocks, and thy herds, and all that thou hast : 11 And there will I nourish thee, (for yet there are five years of famine,) lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast come to poverty. 12 And behold, your eyes see, and the eyes of my brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth that speaketh unto you. 13 And ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen; and ye shall haste, and bring down my fatlier hither. 14 And he fell upon his brother Benjamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck. Moreover, he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them and after that his brethren talked with him. 15 25 And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land of Canaan unto Jacob their father, 26 And told him saying, JOSEPH is yet ALIVE, and he is governor over all the land of Egypt. And Jacob's heart fainted, for he believed them not. 27 And they told him all the words of Joseph, which he had said unto them and when he saw the waggons which Joseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of Jacob their father revived: 28 And Israel said, It is enough; Joseph my son is yet alive: I will go and see him before I die. 3. The death of a friend. 1 I fain would sing :--but ah! I strive in vain. 2 Adieu, ye lays, that Fancy's flowers adorn, And am I left to unavailing wo! When fortune's storms assail this weary head, 'Tis meet that I should mourn: flow forth afresh my tears. Beattie. How still the morning of the hallowed day! The ploughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song.. The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath 5 Of tedded grass, mingled with fading flowers, That yester morn bloom'd waving in the breeze: The faintest sounds attract the ear,-the hum Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, The distant bleating, midway up the hill. 10 Calmness seems thron'd on yon unmoving cloud. To him who wanders o'er the upland leas, The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale, And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark Warbles his heav'n-tun'd song; the lulling brook 15 Murmurs more gently down the deep-sunk glen; While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke O'ermounts the mist, is heard, at intervals, The voice of psalms, the simple song of praise. Stops, and looks back, and stops, and looks on man, 25 Unheedful of the pasture, roams at large. His iron-arm'd hoofs gleam in the morning ray. To eat his joyless bread, lonely, the ground 35 He shares the frugal meal with those he loves; 40 Hail, SABBATH! thee I hail, the poor man's day. He meditates on him whose power he marks He hopes, (yet fears presumption in the hope,) The throng moves slowly o'er the tomb-pav'd ground: 55 The aged man, the bowed down, the blind Led by the thoughtless boy, and he who breathes With pain, and eyes the new-made grave, well-pleas'd; These, mingled with the young, the gay, approach The house of God: these, spite of all their ills, 60 A glow of gladness prove with silent praise They enter in a placid stillness reigns; Until the man of God, worthy the name, Opens the book, and, with impressive voice, The weekly portion reads. Grahame. 5. The Burial of Sir John Moore. 1 (-) Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 3 No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him! 4 Few and short were the prayers we said, But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, 5 We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, 6 "Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, 7 But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock toll'd the hour for retiring, 8 Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory! 6. Eve lamenting the loss of Paradise. At ev❜n, which I bred up with tender hand |