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"WEEP FOR YOURSELVES AND FOR YOUR CHILDREN."
By Mrs. SIGOURNEY, a poetess of America.
WE mourn for those who toil,
The slave who ploughs the main,
A host of restless phantoms chase ;-
We mourn for those who sin,
Whose hearts, by whirlwind passions torn,
But why in sorrow should we mourn
For those who sin no more?
We mourn for those who weep,
But they to whom the sway
Of pain and grief is o'er,
Whose tears our God hath wiped away,
THE PIGEON OF THE EAST.
BY THOMAS MOORE.
THE bird let loose in eastern skies,
But high she shoots through air and light,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
So grant me, God, from every stain
Aloft, through virtue's purer air,
No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
REFLECTIONS AT MIDNIGHT.
A passage from YOUNG's "Night Thoughts."
THE bell strikes one.
But from its loss.
We take no note of time,
To give it then a tongue,
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,
It is the knell of my departed hours:
Where are they? With the years beyond the flood.
It is the signal that demands despatch;
How much is to be done! My hopes and fears
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!