55.

Does the Grave affright thee?
Learn to look beyond it.

56.

Fast bound to earth, the light balloon is bent, With eager haste amid the clouds to rise: Awhile it lingers, till its cords are rent,

Then springs triumphantly towards the skies. So did He soar, when the last bolt was hurl'd, All earthly joys and earthly woes to sever; Wing'd o'er the waves of this revolving world, And on the "Rock of Ages" stands for ever.

57.

Christian, thy life is register'd on high:
Here mayst thou sleep awhile, but canst not die.

58.

It was thought by the world that he died poor; and poor he was, indeed, in worldly riches: but he had, for years, been laying up treasures "where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal."

59.

Stranger! this is a Soldier's Grave,
And simple and short is his story;
He fell not in battle among the brave,
Though he bled in the ranks of glory.

He sicken'd and died, for his hour was come,
His comrades around him condoling:
We bore him away to his long, long home,
The muffled drum mournfully rolling.

Slowly we march'd, nor utter'd a word;
Our faces with sorrow were clouded,

As we gaz'd on the cap, and the glove, and the sword,

While he in his coffin was shrouded.

In the dark cold grave we laid him low,

Nor wasted our time in repining;

Three volleys we gave with our muskets, to shew That a soldier's bones were reclining.

The prayer was said, and we turn'd away,
And struck up a strain lighthearted:

But we could not forget where our comrade lay,
Nor the scene where so late we parted.

We put up this simple stone to tell

That we felt respect and sorrow:

Alas! for us all: for to-day we are well,

And our Graves may be dug to-morrow.

60.

May the sudden bereavement of the estimated individual whose memory this tablet records, be overruled, by the providence of God, for those best purposes for which afflictions are mercifully

sent.

61.

The fool for length of life is ever crying;
The wise man knows that he is always dying:
Both seek for happiness, the fool and wise,
The one on earth, the other in the skies.

62.

The graves around, for many a year,
Were dug by him who slumbers here;
Till, worn with age, he dropp'd his spade,
And in this dust his dust is laid.

As he now, mouldering, shares the doom
Of those he buried in the tomb,

So will his body with them rise

To share the Judgment in the skies.

63.

What but the prospect of eternal life can sup

port thee in the pains of temporal death?

64.

Disease o'ertook me in

my prime:

I sought Ausonia's balmy shore,
Though bland and genial was the clime,
It could not wasted strength restore.

Yet, as the gentle breezes fann'd
My hectic cheek and burning brow,
Delusive Hope still wav'd her hand,
And spoke of joys I ne'er should know.
At length a still small voice was given

To break the charm that bound me here;
It bade me fix my hopes in Heaven,
And told me that my home was there.

65.

Here an Infant lies asleep:
Can we o'er its slumbers weep,
When we think on what He said
Who hath risen from the dead?—
"Suffer babes to come, for those
And babes in spirit shall compose
My heavenly kingdom, there to be
Through eternity with me."

66.

Thou knowest well, Almighty God, above! How closely cling thy creatures in their love, When strong affection every thought controls:Forgive the proud rebellion of our souls.

When Thou, whose hand unerring, yet severe,
Smote the lov'd being that lies buried here,
Bad'st us resign, awhile, our kindred clay,
Alas! we had not virtue to obey.

Increasing sickness loud proclaim'd thy will;
But we, rebellious, disobedient still,
Oppos'd thy mighty power, and closer press'd
The dear departing idol to our breast.

E'en when thy voice in thundering accents spoke, And Pain and Death her thread of being broke, Conquer'd, but not resign'd, we bent the knee, And weeping, trembling, gave her up to thee.

67.

While my hopes, my desires, and my pleasures were free,

I died in my childhood, yet weep not for me;
Reserve for thyself all thy sighs and thy tears:
He who dies in his youth cannot sin in his

68.

My parents, while on earth you dwell,
Weep not that I am gone before;
For though you lov'd me passing well,

years.

My Lord, my Saviour, lov'd me more.
"Twas He who call'd me up to heaven,

And not the Almighty's vengeful rod :
You could not give what he has given,
Nor guide and guard me like my God.

D