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Yet even these bones from insult to protect, Large was his bounty and his soul sincere ;
Some frail memorial still erected nigh, Heaven did a recompense as largely send; With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture He gave to misery (all he had) a tear, decked,
He gained from heaven ('twas all he Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
wished) a friend. Their name, their years, spelt by the unlet- No further seek his merits to disclose, tered muse,
Or draw his frailties from their dread The place of fame and elegy supply;
abode,And many a holy text around she strews, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) That teach the rustic moralist to die.
The bosom of his Father and his God.
Thomas Gray. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned,
APPENDIX. Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Though they, each tome of human lore unNor cast one longing, lingering look be known, hind ?
The brilliant path of science never trod,
| The sacred volume claimed their hearts alone, On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Which taught the way to glory and to God. Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Here they from Truth's eternal fountain E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
The pure and gladdening waters, day by For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored
Learnt, since our days were evil, fleet and Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; few, If chance, by lonely contemplation led, To walk' in wisdom's bright and peaceful
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, way. Haply some hoary-headed swain may say: When life flowed by, and, like an angel, Death “Oft have we seen him, at the peep of Came to release them to the world on high, dawn,
Praise trembled still on each expiring breath, Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, I And holy triumph beamed from every eye. To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Then gentle hands their “dust to dust” con“There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, sign, That wreathes its old, fantastic roots so With quiet tears the simple rites are said, high,
And here they sleep, till, at the trump divine, His listless length at noontide would be The earth and ocean render up their dead. stretch,
An American Poet. And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 443. CHURCHYARD, Hope for the. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in As
ng in As by the churchyard yew my evening way scorn,
I take, and meditate the sacred muse, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would
To catch thy notes my ears unbidden use, rove;
Sweet Elegist, sublimely solemn Gray!
crossed in hopeless Were to my heart more grateful; if thy
Profusely rich in earth's autumnal hues, “One morn I missed him on the customed Showed more of Heaven's enlivening vernal hill
day. Along the heath, and near his favorite tree; “The paths of glory lead but to the grave"Another came,-nor yet beside the rill, | Lo, from the grave fresh paths of glory rise! Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; Reviving thence the “flower” shall breathe
and wave “The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the church-way path we saw
With purer sweetness and with lovelier
dyes; him borne;
And the bright“ gem,” released from ocean's Approach and read (for thou canst read) the
cave, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged
Adorn with sun-like ray its kindred skies.
Bp. Mant. thorn."
444. OHURCHYARD, Tabernacle in the. THE EPITAPH.
Methinks it is good to be here; Here rests his head upon the lap of earth If thou wilt, let us build—but for whom?
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown; Nor Elias nor Moses appear; ' [gloom Fair science frowned not on his humble But the shadows of eve that encompass with birth,
The abode of the dead and the place of the And melancholy marked him for her own. tomb.
Shall we build to Ambition ? Ah, no! 1 445, CISTERNS, Broken. Affrighted he shrinketh away;
This world that we so highly prize, For see, they would pen him below
And seek so eagerly its smile, In a small narrow cave and begirt with cold What is it ?-vanity and lies; clay,
A broken cistern all the while. To the meanest of reptiles a peer and a prey.
Pleasure, with her delightful song, To Beauty ? Ah no! she forgets
That charms the unwary to beguile, The charms which she wielded before;
What is it?—the deceiver's tongue; Nor knows the foul worm that he frets
A broken cistert all the while. The skin which but yesterday fools could adore,
And earthly friendships fair and gay, For the smoothness it held, or the tint which That promise much with artful wile, it wore.
What are they only treachery;
A broken cistern all the while.
In anxious care and ceaseless toil; And here's neither dress nor adornment What are they ?_faithless as the wind; allowed,
A broken cistern all the while. But the long winding-sweet, and the fringe of the shroud.
Yes, all are broken cisterns, Lord,
To those that wander far from thee! To riches ? Alas, 'tis in vain!
The living stream is in thy word, Who hid, in their turns have been hid:
Thou Fount of Immortality! The treasures are squandered again;
Thomas Raffles. And here in the grave are all the metals forbid,
446. CIVILIZATION Perfected. But the tinsel that shines on the dark coffin- Bring us the higher example; release us lid.
| Into the larger coming time:
And into Christ's broad garment piece us To the pleasures which mirth can afford, The revel, the laugh, and the jeer ?
Rags of virtue as poor as crime,
National selfishness, civic vaunting.
Nor taunted; no more England nor And none but the worm is the reveller here.
France ! Shall we build to Affection and Love?
But one confederate brotherhood, planting Ah, no! they have withered and died,
One flag only, to mark the advance, Or fled with the spirit above.
Onward and upward, of all humanity.
Is civilization perfected.
“Count the ships," in national vanity ? Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear,
-Count the nation's heart-beats sooner. Which compassion itself could relieve.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Ah, sweetly they slumber, nor love, hope, or 447. CIVILIZATION, Triomph of.
fear; Peace, peace is the watchword, the only one
There's a good time coming, boys, here.
A good time coming;
We may not live to see the day, Unto Death, to whom monarchs must bow? But earth shall glisten in the ray Ah no! for his empire is known,
Of the good time coming. And here there are trophies enow!
Cannon balls may aid the truth, Beneath, the cold dead, and around, the dark But thought 's a weapon stronger; stone,
We'll win the battle by its aid Are the signs of a sceptre that none may Wait a little longer. disown.
There's a good time coming, boys, The first tabernacle to Hope we build,
A good time coming; And look for the sleepers around us to rise. The pen shall supersede the sword, The second to Faith, that insures it ful And Right, not Might, shall be the lord, filled;
In the good time coming. And the third to the Lamb of the great sacri-|| Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind, fice,
And be ackrowledged stronger; Wno bequeathed us to them both when Hc The proper impulse has been given;
rose to the skies. Herbert Knowles. I Wait a little longer.
There's a good time coming, boys, My Lord ! I kneel with reverent love and fear; A good time coming;
For Thou art here! War in all men's eyes shall be
Mary E. Atkinson. A monster of iniquity In the good time coming.
449. CLOUD, Mission of an Nations shall not quarrel then,
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, To prove which is the stronger ;
From the seas and the streams ; Nor slaughter men for glory's sake; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid Wait a little longer.
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that There's a good time coming, boys,
waken A good time coming ;
The sweet birds every one, Hateful rivalries of creed
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, Shall not make their martyrs bleed
As she dances about the sun. In the good time coming.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail, Religion shall be shorn of pride,
And whiten the greep plains under; And flourish all the stronger;
And then again I dissolve it in rain ; And Charity shall trim her lamp;
And laugh as I pass in thunder. Wait a little longer.
I sift the snow on the mountains below, There's a good time coming, boys,
And their great pines groan aghast; A good time coming; .
And all the night 'tis my pillow white, The people shall be temperate,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast. And shall love instead of hate,
Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowerg In the good time coming.
Lightning, my pilot, sits; They shall use and not abuse,
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder; And make all virtue stronger;
It struggles and howls at fits. The reformation has begun;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, Wait a little longer.
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming;
In the depths of the purple sca; Let us aid it all we can
Over the rills and the cragg and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or Smallest helps, if rightly given,
stream, Make the impulse stronger;
The spirit he loves remains; 'Twill be strong enough one day;
And I all the while bask in heaven's blue
smile, Wait a little longer. Charles Mackay.
Whilst he is dissolving in rains. 448. CLOSET, Waiting in the.
The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, Lord, I have shut my door,
And his burning plumes outspread, Shut out life's busy cares and fretting noise :
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, Here in this silence they intrude no more.
When the morning star shines dead. Speak Thou, and heavenly joys
As, on the jag of a mountain crag Shall fill my heart with music sweet and! Which an earthquake rocks and swings, calm,
An eagle, alit, one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings;
And when sunset may breathe, from the lit
. sea beneath, Even on all the beauty of Thine earth, To its blue ceiling from its emerald floor,
Its ardors of rest and of love, Filled with spring's bloom and mirth:
mand mirth. And the crimson pall of eve may fall
A From these Thy works I turn, Thyself I seek,
| From the depth of heaven above, To Thee I speak.
| With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbèd maiden with white fire laden, Its tender friendships, all the priceless store
| Whom mortals call the moon, Of human ties. Above
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor All these my heart aspires, O Heart divine! | By the midnight breezes strewn; Stoop Thou to mine.
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear, Lord, I have shut my door!
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin Come Thou and visit me: I am alone!
roof, Come, as when doors were shut Thou cam'st The stars peep behind her and peer; of yore,
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, And visitedst Thine own.
| Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, An Elim, with its coolness,
Its fountains, and its shade!
When buds of promise fade! Are each paved with the moon and these.
O'er tears of soft contrition,
I've seen a rainbow light; I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
A glory and fruition, And the moon's with a girdle of pcarl;
So near !--yet out of sight. The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
My Saviour! Thee possessing, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
I have the joy, the balm, From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
The healing and the blessing, Over a torrent sea,
The sunshine and the psalm! Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,
The promise for the fearful, The mountains its columns be.
The Elim for the faint, The triumphal arch, through which I march,
The rainbow for the tearful, With hurricane, fire, and snow,
The glory for the saint. When the powers of the air are chained to
Jane Creudson my chair,
452. COMFORT, Religions. Is the million-colored bow;
Sometimes a light surprises The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
The Christian while he sings; While the moist earth was laughing below. It is the Lord who rises
With healing in His wings : I am the daughter of the earth and water,
When comforts are declining, And the nursling of the sky;
He grants the soul again I pass through the pores of the ocean and
A season of clear shining,
To cheer it after rain.
In holy contemplation,
We swectly then pursue And the winds and sunbeams, with their
The theme of God's salvation, convex gleams,
And find it ever new : Build up the blue dome of air,
Set free from present sorrow, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
We cheerfully can say, And out of the caverns of rain,
Let the unknown to-morrow Like a child from the womb, like a ghost
Bring with it what it may. from the tomb,
· It can bring with it nothing, I rise and upbuild it again.
But He will bear us through ;
Who gives the lilies clothing, 450. COMFORT, Common.
Will clothe His people too:
Beneath the spreading heavens, There is a heaven yet to rest my soul on
No creature but is fed ; In the midst of all unhappiness, which I
And He who feeds the ravens look on
Will give His children bread. With the same comfort as a distressed seaman
Though vine nor fig-tree neitner, Afar off views the coast he would enjoy,
Their wonted fruit should bear, When yet the seas do toss his reeling bark
Though all the fields should wither, 'Twixt hope and danger. James Shirley.
Nor flocks nor herds be there :
Yet God the same abiding, 451, COMFORT, Experience of.
His praise shall tune my voice,
For while in Him confiding,
I cannot but rejoice.
453. COMFORT, Source of.
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawn'd on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort, than an angel's mirth ?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should I've found a glad hosanna
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas
Sooner than where the Easter sun
Shines glorious on yon open grave,
And to and fro the tidings run,
“ Who died to heal, is risen to savc ?"
Sooner than where upon the Saviour's friends, If it tarry, be not thou cast down: the bee , The very Comforter in light and love de- can gather honey out of rue. scends?
With a friend, praise him when thou canst;
for many a friendship hath decayed, Yet so it is : for duly there
Like a plant in a trowded corner, for want The bitter herbs of earth are set,
of sunshine on its leaves : Till temper'd by the Saviour's prayer | With another, praise him not often,-otherAnd with the Saviour's life-blood wet,
wise he shall despise thee; They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm, But be thou frugal in commending; so will Soft as imprison'd martyr's death-bed calm.
he give honor to thy judgment. J. Keble.
Wilt thou that one remember a thing 454, COMFORT, Vain.
praise him in the midst of thy advice. So dying men receive vain comforts
Expect not praise from the mean, neither From those visitants they love, when they
gratitude from the selfish. Persuade them to be patient at the loss of life,
M. F. Tupper.
They know, who thus oppress me,
Tis hard to be alone;
But know not One can bless me, Their will, but nature's obstinate decree.
Who comes through bars and stone: W. Davenant.
He makes my dungeon's darkness bright,
And fills my bosom with delight. 455. COMMANDMENTS, Ten. Thou shalt have no more gods but me,
Thy love, O God! restores me Before no idol bow thy knee,
From sighs and tears to praise ; Take not the name of God in vain,
And deep my soul adores Thee, Nor dare the Sabbath-day profane.
Nor thinks of time or place: Give both thy parents honor due.
I ask no more, in good or ill, Take heed that thou no murder do.
But union with Thy holy will. Abstain from words and deeds unclean;
'Tis that which makes my treasure, Nor steal, though thou art poor and mean;
'Tis that which brings my gain; Nor make a wilful lie, nor love it.
Converting woe to pleasure, What is thy neighbor's dare not covet.
And reaping joy from pain.
Oh, 'tis enough, whato'er befall, 456. COMMENDATION, Use of.
To know that God is All in all. Praise a fool, and slay him; for the canvas
Madame Guyon, tr. by T. C. Upham. of his vanity is spread; His bark is shallow in the water, and a sud
458. COMMUNION, Example of.
It happened on a solemn eventide,
for he carrieth the ballast of humility, Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined, And is glad when his course is cheered by The scene of all those sorrows left behind ;
the sympathy of brethren ashore. Sought their own village, busied as they went The praise of a good man is good, for he In musings worthy of the great event;
holdeth up the mirror of Truth, They spake of Him they loved, of Him whose That Virtue may see her own beauty, and life,
delight in her own fair face: Though blameless, had incurred perpetual The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth strife, the deformity of Vice,
Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts, Casting the mantle of a queen around the A deep memorial graven on their hearts. limbs of a leper.
The recollection, like a vein of ore, Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience The further traced, enriched them still the alloweth it not:
more; And where Conscience feeleth it her due, no They thought Him, and they justly thought praise is better than a little
Him One, He that despiseth the outward appearance, Sent to do more than He appeared t have
despiseth the esteem of his fellows; I done; And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall To exalt a people, and to place them high earn only their contempt:
Above all else, and wondered He should die. The honest commendation of an equal no one Ere yet they brought their journey to an end, can scoin and be blameless,
A stranger joined them, courteous as a friend, Yet even that fair fame no one can hunt for And asked them with a kind, engaging air, and be honored :
What their affliction was, and beggcd a share. If it come, accept it and be thankful, and be Informed, He gathered up the broken thread, thou humble in accepting;
| And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said,