Oh, Sutherland! ne'er may the memory part}

Of those fleet, happy hours, from this wo-withered heart!

Thou hast gone to thy rest—and I dread not the hour That shall yield me to earth and the grave's peaceful

power.

IN MEMORY

OF

THE REV. JAMES LAWRENCE YVOUNETT.

ONE beauteous day in June, in days gone by, There stood above dark Poesten's rocky brow, Upon the very verge of his wild whirlpool, Three beauteous youths,* collegiate wanderers then, From three far distant Alma Maters metWhat time the brief recess of summer chanced— Columbia, Yale and Union, thy fair sons.

*The Rev. J. L. Yvounett, Rev. E. D. Griffin, and Rev. S. Douglas. See some beautiful lines of the Rev. E. D. Griffin, on occasion of his visiting the romantic waterfall here spoken of, in the first volume of his "Remains."

REV. J. L. YVOUNETT.

Three firm-united, ardent friends they were;
Full of sweet hope, and generous intent,
And the rich glow of youth's imaginings:
A sacred trio, bound by early vows,
At God's high altar, soon to consecrate
Life, talent, effort, all to His high service.
They stood in beauty, side by side, and oh!
What beaming visions crossed each youthful eye!
Each moment there had in it years of life.

And are they with the dead!

105

The whole of that fair trio gone? Even so!
O Earth! O Life! is this thy golden promise?
Thou first, dear Lawrence, through the gloomy vale
Of death, didst find the path of paradise.

I saw the grave close o'er thee, where the roar
Of Poesten's wave I heard, deep thundering near.
I thought of thee, ah! could I fail to think

Of that sweet morn in June-those beautoous three!

THE bell tolled out a solemn funeral peal,

The church was filled, and through the aisle there

came

A slow, sad, silent train, that seemed to feel

They mourned the fall of more than common name.

"I am the Resurrection and the Life"-*

Thus spake the aged friend of him who lay Cold on that bier, and felt no more death's strife— "The Lord that gave, hath taken him away.”

Allusion is here made to the text of the funeral discourse preached by the Rev. David Butler, rector of St. Paul's Church, Troy. Of these two venerable Christians-one the clerical, and the other the lay founder of the Church in that place-may it be justly and truly said, "They took sweet counsel together, and walked in the house of God as friends."

ELIAKIM WARREN, ESQ.

107

He was that "upright," and that "perfect man,”
Of whom the Psalmist sung, and his decease;
His Christian "race" with patient hope he ran;
"Fought the good fight," and so his end was peace.

I seem to see his snowy locks adorn

The long-accustomed pew-and I recall That reverence I felt in life's young morn For him, so kind to me, so good to all.

"Thou art gone up on high," O holy man!

One of that " cloud of witnesses" thou art, That hover o'er this vale of tears, and scan

The path of friends who may not yet depart.

Grant me, O God! to tread that upward way
This father of our Israel daily trod;

That to this early, aged friend I may

In heaven tell, of souls brought home to God. 1829.

TO THE MEMORY

OF

ESAIAS WARREN, ESQ.,

LATE MAYOR OF THE CITY OF TROY, AND WARDEN OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCH IN THAT PLACE.

Una salus ambobus erit.

VIRG., EN. II, 710.

I.

I STOOD upon the burial-ground
That lies o'er Ida's hill;

The sun was going calmly down,
And earth and heaven were still;
No sound, save that of Poesten's fall,
Deep down his dark ravine;
And shades began, o'er Ida's brow,

To lengthen o'er the scene.

II.

Beneath my feet lay many a friend
That I had loved full well,