of most great music publishers and dealers, preserves the full poem and score. Its occasion was the death at sea, off St. Helena, of the Baptist missionary, Mrs. Sarah Hall Boardman Judson, and the solemn committal of her remains to the dust on that historic island, Sept. 1, 1845. She was on her way to America from Burmah at the time of her death, and the ship proceeded on its homeward voyage immediately after her burial. The touching circumstances of the gifted lady's death, and the strange romance of her entombment where Napoleon's grave was made twenty-four years before, inspired Mr. Washburn, who was a prominent layman of the Baptist denomination, and interested in all its ecclesiastical and missionary activities, and he wrote this poetic memorial of the event: Mournfully, tenderly, bear on the dead; Where the warrior has lain, let the Christian be laid. Mournfully, tenderly, solemn and slow; Mournfully, tenderly, gaze on that brow; One look, and then settle the loved to her rest The ocean beneath her, the turf on her breast. Mrs. Sarah Judson was the second wife of the Rev. Adoniram Judson, D.D., the celebrated pio neer American Baptist missionary, and the mother by her first marriage, of the late Rev. George Dana Boardman, D.D., LL. D., of Philadelphia. The Hon. Henry S. Washburn was born in Providence, R. I., 1813, and educated at Brown University. During most of his long life he resided in Massachusetts, and occupied there many positions of honor and trust, serving in the State Legislature both as Representative and Senator. He was the author of many poems and lyrics of high merit, some of which—notably “The Vacant Chair" became popular in sheet-music and in books of religious and educational use. He died in 1903. THE TUNE. "The Burial of Mrs. Judson" became favorite parlor music when Lyman Heath composed the melody for it-of the same name. Its notes and movement were evidently inspired by the poem, for it reproduces the feeling of every line. The threnody was widely known and sung in the middle years of the last century, by people, too, who had scarcely heard of Mrs. Judson, and received in the music and words their first hint of her history. The poem prompted the tune, but the tune was the garland of the poem. Lyman Heath of Bow, N. H., was born there Aug. 24, 1804. He studied music, and became a vocalist and vocal composer. Died July 30, 1870. "TELL ME NOT IN MOURNFUL NUMBERS." Longfellow's "Psalm of Life" was written when be was a young man, and for some years it carried the title he gave it, "What the Young Man's Heart Said to the Psalmist"-a caption altogether too long to bear currency. The history of the beloved poet who wrote this optimistic ballad of hope and courage is too well known to need recounting here. He was born in Portland, Me., in 1807, graduated at Bowdoin College, and was for more than forty years professor of Belles Lettres in Harvard University. Died in Cambridge, March 4, 1882. Of his longer poems the most read and admired are his beautiful romance of “Evangeline," and his epic of "Hiawatha,” but it is hardly too much to say that for the last sixty years, his "Psalm of Life" has been the common property of all American, if not English school-children, and a part of their education. When he was in London, Queen Victoria sent for him to come and see her at the palace. He went, and just as he was seating himself in the waiting coach after the interview, a man in working clothes appeared, hat in hand, at the coach window. "Please sir, yer honor," said he, “an' are you Mr. Longfellow?" "I am Mr. Longfellow," said the poet. "An' did you write the Psalm of Life?" he asked. "I wrote the Psalm of Life,” replied the poet. "An', yer honor, would you be willing to take a workingman by the hand?" Mr. Longfellow gave the honest Englishman a hearty handshake, “And” (said he in telling the story) "I never in my life received a compliment that gave me more satisfaction." The incident has a delightful democratic flavor -and it is perfectly characteristic of the amiable author of the most popular poem in the English language. The "Psalm of Life" is a wonderful example of the power of commonplaces put into tuneful and elegant verse. The thought of setting the poem to music came to the compiler of one of the Unitarian church singing books. Some will question, however, whether the selection was the happiest that could have been made. The tune is "Rathbun," Ithamar Conkey's melody that always recalls Sir John Bowring's great hymn of praise. "BUILD THEE MORE NOBLE MANSIONS." This poem by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, known among his works as "The Chambered Nautilus," was considered by himself as his worthiest achievement in verse, and his wish that it might live is likely to be fulfilled. It is stately, and in character and effect a rhythmic sermon from a text in "natural theology." The biography of one of the little molluscan sea-navigators that continually enlarges its shell to adapt it to its growth inspired the thoughtful lines. The third, fourth and fifth stanzas are as follows: Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread the lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the last year's dwelling for the new, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Cast from her lap forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings, "Build thee more noble mansions, O my soul. As the swift seasons roll: Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Leaving thy outgrown shell by life's unresting sea." Dr. Frederic Hedge included the poem in his hymn-book but without any singing-supplement to the words. WHITTIER'S SERVICE SONG. It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the harvest field. If this stanza and the four following do not reveal all the strength of John G. Whittier's spirit, |