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There she sleeps, the daughter Of your fondest care :Sleeps? Ah, that deep slumber Knows no wakening there : Lonely you must labour,

Lone to toil must rise,
Ere that veil of slumber
Falls upon your eyes.

Still, and calm, and tranquil,
Lies the maiden now :
Now no more shall fever
Flush her pallid brow :
Fold the hands in reverence
On the virgin breast;
Whisper "life is over,'
Bid her take her rest.

Yet the blush of beauty
Seems to linger still,
As the sun departed

Tints some distant hill:
See! life's flame is kindling

On the lips of death,

As its dying ember

Feels the SAVIOUR'S breath.

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Grants the prize without the course, Crowns, without the battle's force.

Alleluia.

GOD, Who loveth innocence,
Hastes to take His darling hence.
Alleluia.

What need we beseech in prayer
For that soul, now glad and fair?

Alleluia.

Nay, for us it prays the LORD
That His mercy He accord.

Alleluia.

CHRIST, when this sad life is done,
Join us to Thy little one.

Alleluia.

And in Thine own tender love,
Bring us to the ranks above.

Alleluia. Amen.

"THY DAUGHTER IS DEAD, TROUBLE NOT THE

DE

MASTER."

EAD is thy daughter, trouble not the Master : Thus in the ruler's ear his servant spake, When tremblingly he urged the SAVIOUR faster Up the green slope from that white-margined lake.

The soft wave weltered, and the breeze came sighing

Out of the oleander thickets red;

He only heard a breath that gasped in dying, "O trouble not the Master-she is dead.

Trouble Him not.

seeming

Ah! are those words be

The desolation of that awful day,

When love's vain fancies, hope's delusive dreaming,
Are over, and the life has fled for aye?

We need Him most when the dear eyes are closing,
When on the cheek the shadow lieth strong,
When the soft lines are set in that reposing
That never mother cradled with a song.

Then most we need the gentle Human Feeling
That throbs with all our sorrows and our fears,
And that great Love Divine its light revealing
In short bright flashes through a mist of tears.

Then most we need the Voice that while it weepeth
Yet hath a solemn undertone that saith-
Weep not, thy darling is not dead, but sleepeth;
"Only believe," for I have conquered death.

Then most we need the thoughts of Resurrection,
Not the life here, 'mid pain, and sin, and woe,
But ever in the fulness of Perfection

To walk with Him in robes as white as snow.

When in our nursery garden falls a blossom,
And as we kiss the hand and fold the feet,
We cannot see the lamb in Abraham's bosom,
Nor hear the footfall in the golden street.

When all is silent, neither moan nor cheering,
The hush of hope, the end of all our cares,
All but that harp above, beyond our hearing,
Then most we need to trouble Him with prayers.

Did He not enter in when that cold sleeper

Lay still, with pulseless heart and leaden eyes, Put calmly forth each loud tumultuous weeper, And take her by the hand and bid her rise?

Come to us, SAVIOUR! in our lone dejection, Speak calmly to our wild and passionate grief, Bring us the hopes and thoughts of resurrection, Bring us the comfort of a true belief!

Come! with that Human Voice that breaks in weeping,

Come with that awful Tenderness Divine, Come! tell us that they are not dead but sleeping, But gone before to Thee, for they are Thine.

THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD.

H it is sweet to think

OH

Of those that are departed,
While murmured Aves sink
To silence tender-hearted,
While tears that have no pain
Are tranquilly distilling,
And the dead live again
In hearts that love is filling.

Yet not as in the days

Of earthly ties we love them; For they are touched with rays From light that is above them: Another sweetness shines

Around their well-known features; GOD with His glory signs

His dearly ransomed creatures.

Yes, they are more our own,
Since now they are GOD's only;
And each one that has gone
Has left our heart less lonely.
He mourns not seasons fled,
Who now in Him possesses
Treasures of many dead

In their dear LORD'S caresses.

Dear dead! they have become
Like guardian angels to us;
And distant heaven like home,
Through them begins to woo us;

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