TO THE

SHADE OF EATON.

SPIRIT of the mighty dead!
Foremost in the battle fray:
Injured Chieftain,-whither fled-
Whither dost thou wander,-say?

Thou that on proud, vanquished Derne,

Saw'st the starry banner wave;

Thou whose soul could danger spurn,
Gallant leader of the brave,-

In vision's awful night I meet thee,
Where the silent shadows glide;
With prophetic eye, I greet thee,
Where the warrior seeks his bride.

Mighty Spirit doth the wrong That ingratitude once gave, Anguish to thee still prolong, Doth it wound beyond the grave?

No, for at the Eternal's shrine, See, the glad immortal bow; Hark, the strain of peace divine; Tranquil is that bosom now.

Thou forgivest,-yet, O ever, Shall the patriot weep thy doom; Thou forgivest,-years shall never Dim the halo round thy tomb,

VERSES,

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF MR. CHARLES WESTPHAL, AND HIS TWO SONS, CHARLES AND FREDERICK, WHO WERE DROWNED IN THE DELAWARE, August 30, 1821.

We have seen them laid in the tomb,
Where the weary no more are oppressed;
The elder, and those in life's bloom,
Have gone to the slumbers of rest.

In the morning, when hope is brightest,
The angel of death hath found them;
In the season when sorrow is lightest,
The billow hath closed around them.

Let Piety guard the clay,
Affection hallow the stone,
While they wait the appointed day,
When Jesus shall call his own.

We sigh o'er the honoured head,
Laid low in manhood's hour;
Our tenderest tears are shed,
For the blight of childhood's flower.

O surely He who never
Rejected those that come;
To the arms of Love forever,
Will take these innocents home.

For such the Redeemer plead,

For such his life was given;
And He hath graciously said,

"Of these is the kingdom of heaven."

Though dear these objects of love,
We yield to him the trust;
Compassionate, he will prove
The guardian of their dust.

Teach those, from whom the treasure,
O Lord, thou tak'st away,
Submission to thy pleasure,
Is sorrow's sweetest stay.

While death is momently stealing
Our joys, may faith abound;

And grant, Thou Gilead of healing,
Resignation to balm the wound.

STANZAS.

I HAVE NEVER SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FORSAKEN.

David.

I've seen the heir of guilt and wo,
And marked his wandering eye;
I've seen the tear of anguish flow,
And heard the mournful sigh:

I've seen the victim of despair,

A prey to want and sin;

I've watched his brow, when sternly there

Was stamped the curse within:

I've seen the lordling roll in state,

And swell with bloated pride;

I've seen, when at the poor man's gate,

The wretched outcast died: