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HEAVEN OVER ALL.
HEAVEN OVER ALL!
We linger o'er the phantom past,
With back-turned heart and eye,
By all that has gone by.
6 We will not be the slaves
That we may not recall ;
And Heaven be over all !
Faintly the wearied spirit turns,
To seek for earthly rest,
Leans on some loving breast.
Affection's voice is kind ;
Peace to the restless mind ?
Where Heaven is over all.
Hearts that have loved us well and long,
We know your priceless worth ;
To bind us down to earth.
That smiled upon our youth,
But less than God and Truth.
Nor pain nor care appal,
When Heaven is over all.
" What a poor value do men set of heaven!
Heaven! the perfection of all that can
VIRTUE AND ORNAMENT.
VIRTUE AND ORNAMENT.
The diamond's and the ruby's rays
Shine with a milder, finer flame,
Than beauty's self, if lost to fame.
But the sweet tear in pity's eye
Transcends the diamond's brightest beams; And the soft blush of modesty
More precious than the ruby seems.
The glowing gem, the sparkling stone,
May strike the sight with quick surprise ; But truth and innocence alone
Can still engage the good and wise.
No glittering ornament or show
Will aught avail in grief or pain:
Delight that ever shall remain.
Behold, ye fair, your lovely queen!
'Tis not her jewels, but her mind; A meeker, purer, ne'er was seen!
It is her virtue charms mankind !
O LADY, give thy fancy wings,
“ Pour forth the flowing line ; O, ne'er should lie untouched the strings
Of harp so sweet as thine.
Thy themes delight; to me they bring
A soothing melody ;
The charms of minstrelsy.
I never saw thee - yet thy song
Awakes, to memory, Some voice of that now severed throng,
That seemed the world to me.
Among them was a gifted one —
O, sadly sweet the lay She tuned her harp was like thine own;
But she was called away.
Thine is the power to call back days
That once were bright and fair, And friends who trod with me the ways
Of youth devoid of care.
Then, lady, often wake the lyre,
With artlessness thine own;
So soft and pure the tone.
The winds are whistling loud and shrill
The night is damp and dark ;
Who dares to-night embark.
It is a stormy lake, and wide,
Ah! many have found it deep!-
Who has a vow to keep.
She trembles, as the winds grow strong,
And waves leap fast and high ;
The dismal clouds move by.
In vain she listens — nought she hears,
Or sees, but of the storm,
Around her trembling form.
“ He's lost !” she cried, when long she'd faced
The dark and dreary shore; 6. He's lost! and I with him will die,
For he can come no more !”
The storm went by — the morning came ;
His heart was glad, I ween,
He could but break last e'en.