O'er the land of life and love; Heaven's own harvests woo the reaper, Heaven's own dreams entrance the sleeper, Not a tear is left the weeper To profane one flower above. No frail lilies there are breathing, Than is sunned by mortal skies. There no sigh of memory swelleth, Hearts will bleed or break no more; Life's glad waves and golden shore. Oh, on that bright shore to wander, THOUGHTS FOR THE DEPARTED. THINK ever of the dead: When Spring is beautiful, when Summer shines, When the soft skies rose-mingled lustre shed, When autumn sunbeams kiss the purple vines, And when the snow-stars glisten to them wing Thy gentlest thought; they filled thy life with spring. The glorious dwellers in yon peopled skies! Sweet inspirations of the pure and fair, - Pavilioned in the auroral tents of light; Their spheres of heavenly influence round thee spread, Their pure transparence veiling them from sight. Angelic ministers of love and peace, Whose sweet solicitudes will never cease. They strive with thee the dead : Spirit with spirit striving, heart with heart, Spurned and resisted they may not depart, They watch with thee the dead: Through the last agony, the doubt, the gloom, When Soul and Body are through pain unwed, And Night droops down the midnight of the tomb: And o'er the soul sense steals their wakening hymn, Familiar yet the song of Seraphim. They welcome thee. the dead: The soft, sweet glow of those beloved eyes Balms each worn heart that long hath inly bled, And gives new glory to God's paradise! Love and remember them-unseen, yet near, Their white feet guide thee to the immortal sphere ! J. S. Harms THE HAPPIER SPHERE. IF yon bright stars which gem the night, Where kindred spirits re-unite, Whom death has torn asunder here, And leave this blighted orb afar But oh! how dark, how drear, how lone If wandering through each radiant zone, It cannot be ! each hope and fear That blights the eye or clouds the brow, Proclaims there is a happier sphere Than this black world that holds us now! There is a voice which sorrow hears, When heaviest weighs life's galling chain ; 'Tis heaven that whispers "dry thy tears in heart shall meet again!" The pure HOPE'S BRIGHTER SHORE. THRICE happy he whom through each devious path O! life may have its sorrows and its cares, Seeking a brighter shore! FORGIVENESS OF ERROR. FROM north and south, from east and west, From every clime of earth they come, In one immortal throng we view Howe'er divided here below, One bliss, one spirit, now they know, On earth, according to their light, BUTCHER. CONVERSION. GOD's voice doth sometimes fall on us with fear; More often with a music low yet clear, |