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VERSES,

IN MEMORY OF MR. W. K. L. OF MASSACHUSETTS,

WHO DIED ON THE COAST OF AFRICA, 1820, AGED 29.

To him by tempests driven,
Whom earthly blessings fly;
The heart with anguish riven,
How sweet it is to die.

Friend of my youth, adieu!
Peace to thy sleeping clay;
For tears were thine, and few
The flowers to cheer thy way.

Thou slumberest where no more

The weary are oppressed;

The storm with thee is o'er,

And tranquil is thy rest.

Snatched from the angry billow,

When death stood near, wast thou:*
Yet thou hast made thy pillow,
Upon the cold earth now.

* He had been recently shipwrecked.

No mother sorrowed o'er thee,

No father gave the tear;

No sister to deplore thee,

Or deck thy lonely bier.

The Siroc sweeps thy grave;
Around thee, night-kings cry;
Naught but the moaning wave,
Responds the desert's sigh.

Yet hallowed be thy slumbers,
Child of affliction stern;

And softly breathe the numbers

That consecrate thy urn.

Thy heart, by fate severe,
Though torn, was pity's shrine;
Thou gav'st the secret tear
For other woes than thine.

Friend of my youth, adieu!
Thou hail'st another shore;
Where hope is ever true,

Where tears are found no more.

MISSION TO JERUSALEM.

A MISSION HAS BEEN SENT FROM AMERICA TO JERUSALEM. AFTER AGES OF DARKNESS, The light oF THE GOSPEL IS ABOUT TO RE-ILLUMINE THE SHORES OF PALESTINE.

LONG hath the crescent's glittering sign,

On Salem's temple shone,

Long hath Jehovah's awful shrine,

Stood desolate and lone.

The tents of Midian tribes unblest,
On Shinah's plains have spread;

The wanderer's foot hath rudely prest

The soil where Jesus bled.

But Shiloh comes to bless the land,

And Israel's tribes restore;

Lo, Edom, with Assyria's band,

On Calvary shall adore.

Fair Lebanon shall hear his voice,
And lands where Jordan flows,
With Sharon's desert, shall rejoice,
And blossom as the rose.

No more shall Zion's daughter mourn,
Nor captive Judah sigh;

JEHOVAH shall her walls adorn,

And bring his ransomed nigh.*

*And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion

with songs; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

ISAIAH.

FAIR IS THE SCENE.

FAIR is the scene when the mists of the morning,
Chased o'er the mountains, fly quickly away;
Rich is the view when the faint blush of dawning,
Brightening, discloses the empire of day.

Splendid the pomp when the glad beam advancing,
Illumines with glory its march through the sky;
Gilding the landscape, its beauties enhancing,
As it flings o'er creation its deep azure dye.

Chaste is the ray when the night star is gleaming,
Lovely and lone in its orbit of blue;

Mild is the halo when Cynthia beaming,
Mellows the shade with her silvery hue.

Dear are these charms, and this bosom will ever
Own, with devotion, their magic to please;
But ne'er while there's truth be forgetful, O never,
That the smile of affection is sweeter than these.

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