And can ye deem that, when ye meet, Hearts will not hold communion sweet?

Alas! if it be so,

That in the burial urn

The soul must garner up the love
That once did in it burn -
Better to know not of the worth
Of true affection on this earth;

Better to live alone,

Unblessing and unblest,

Than thus to meet and mingle thought-
Than from the immortal breast

Shut out the memory of the past,
Like daybeams from a forest vast.

O, no; it cannot be !

Ye, the long lost of years, 'Mid all the changes of this life,

Its thousand joys and fears,

We love to think that round ye move,
Making an atmosphere of love.

Ye are not dead to us ;

But as bright stars unseen,

We hold that ye are ever near,

Though death intrudes between,

Like some thin cloud, that veils from

sight

The countless spangles of the night.

64

DAYS OF TRIBULATION.

Your influence is still felt
In many a varied hour ;

The dewy morn brings thoughts of you;
Ye give the twilight power;
And when the Sabbath sunshine rests
On your white tombs, ye fill our breasts.

No apathy hath struck

Its ice bolt through our hearts;
Yours are among our household names;
Your memory ne'er departs;

And far, far sweeter are the flowers
Ye planted in our favored bowers.

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee."-ISAIAH xliii.

DAYS OF TRIBULATION.

KRUMMACHER.

EVEN the days of tribulation have their sweet and pleasing intervals, which they bring disguised under the gloomy mantle of sorrow, whilst other days present them to us openly and in festive attire; and although such seasons cause distress, yet they are like vernal storms, which open the springs and cause them

to flow. They are the days in which the spices of the divine promises yield their perfume; and when a resurrection breath pervades the graves of the prophets of God, then these ancient and hoary comforters express themselves audibly to us, and their feet are beautiful upon the mountains. A number of passages, which in brighter days were either unheeded or unappreciated, burn now in our hemisphere, as blissful and wondrous luminaries. Openings and peaceful retreats are discovered in the temple of the Scriptures, of which we had previously no idea. The spirit celebrates blissful and paradisiacal festivities; and often while the soul is lying in profound sorrow, or the flesh writhing in the glowing crucible, the mind rejoices that the refiner is near.

THE SPIRIT'S LAND.

AUTHOR OF SELWIN.

O, BEAUTEOUS are the forms that stand
Beyond death's dusky wave,
And beckon to the spirit's land,
Across the narrow grave!

No damp is on the freed one's brow,
No dimness in his eye;

The dews of heaven refresh him now,
The fount of light is nigh.

66

THE SPIRIT'S LAND.

The parent souls that o'er our bed
Oft poured the midnight prayer,
Now wonder where their cares are fled,
And calmly wait us there.

The dearer still the close intwined
With bands of roseate hue;

We thought them fair; but now we find
'Twas but their shade we knew.

"Tis sweet, when o'er the earth unfurled
Spring's verdant banners wave,
To think how fair yon upper world,
Which knows no wintry grave.

'Tis sweet, when tempests earth deform,
And whirlwinds sweep the sky,
To know a haven from the storm
When worlds themselves must die;

To know that they in safety rest,
The tranquil barks of those
Who, soaring on life's billowy crest,
Attained to heaven's repose;

To know that brethren fondly wait
Our mansion to prepare;

That death but opes that mansion's gate,
And lo! our souls are there!

A DEATH BED.

J. ALDRICH.

HER sufferings ended with the day;
Yet lived she at its close,

And breathed the long, long night away,

In statue-like repose.

But when the sun, in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,

She passed through Glory's morning gate,
And walked in paradise!

DEPARTED FRIENDS.

REV. M. HENRY.

OUR friends who have left us-where are they? Not lost, not perished. We are sure that to them, to whom to live it was Christ, to die will be gain. Where are they? They are where they are perpetually and perfectly blessed in the immediate vision and enjoyment of God, within the veil; infinitely more happy where they are than where they were.