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165.

Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Now of my only child bereaved,
Let me be still, and murmur not,
But breathe the prayer divinely taught,
"Thy will be done."

166.

Shall youth-shall beauty fade away,
And none lament their swift decay?
Yes we are called to weep and mourn,
And them in faith, to God return.

167.

Why weep, and shed such bitter tears?
Why all these unbelieving fears ?—
What, though he were an only son,

Whose mortal race so soon was run,

Let faith in God, thy soul sustain,

That God, with whom his Saints shall reign.

168.

Forgive! whilst thus I mourn her early doom,
The tear that glistens in a parent's eye,
When Faith should rather smile upon her tomb,
And view her bliss-her glory in the sky.

169.

Look forward to that day which shall unfold the mysteries of time, and reveal the glories of a happy eternity.

170.

On him who bears the feeble up,
My spirit let me stay;

In him who gave this bitter cup
Confide from day to day;

And onward press to realms above,

Where all shall know, that,

"God is love."

171.

When hoary age is carried to the tomb,

Though grieved, we know that such is nature's doom,
But when in life's fair spring, we see a flower,

Wither, and die, in one short, transient hour,
The heart too full, God's purpose
wise to see,

Is apt to murmur at the stern decree ;

Yet why o'er thee, lamented youth repine?
Since heaven's transcendent glories now are thine.

172.

A calm, patient spirit under all our losses, and all our sorrows, is the spirit which best befits, and adorns the Christian.

173.

Dear Parents! cease that plaintive moan,
Look up, and wipe those tears away :

What though your sweetest joys are flown?
What though your choicest gourds decay?
Earth's bliss, is, but a summer's flower,
Earth's woe, a swiftly ebbing tide,
Let faith sustain each trying hour,
Jehovah hears, and will provide.
Let faith, and hope your spirits cheer,
Your God-your Saviour's ever near.

174.

We gazed upon her youthful brow
When decked with beauty, and with bloom :
But, oh! how changed and faded now,
Thou mouldering tenant of the tomb !
In wisdom may we learn from thee-
And haste a flattering world to flee.

175.

Alas! my son, and didst thou die,
Without a friend, or parent nigh?
No hand to wipe thy fainting brow,
To raise thee up, or lay thee low?
Thy father's God, did there sustain,
A Saviour's love, did soothe thy pain,
And we'll adore his holy name,

Who in all climes is found the same.

These lines may be inscribed on a cenotaph to the memory of any pious youth who died abroad.

176.

Lines to the memory of a youth who fell from a steam packet, and was drowned in the River Illonois.

He sunk (to rise no more) in that swift stream :—
Short was his life-and all his hopes a dream.
He sunk-no human power his life could save,
No hand, could snatch him from his watery grave;
A grave, indeed, he little thought to find,
When England, and his friends he left behind.
Such was his end-and yet the young still dream,
And speak of pleasure as their only theme.
And what is pleasure? but a summer's gleam—
And what the longest life ?—a rapid stream.

MANHOO D.

177.

Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene :
Resumes them, to prepare us for the next.

For us they languish, and for us they die :
And shall they languish, shall they die in vain ?

178.

Men seek substantial good in vain,

Intent on things below;

For what's the sum of all their gain,

But vanity and woe?

179.

Who seeks a world of perfect bliss,
Must never fix his heart on this.

180.

Where is the man, that can welcome the tomb ? Where is the man, that dreads not its gloom ?— The Christian, can welcome the gloom of the grave, Who knows his Redeemer, is, "mighty to save.”

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