72

ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD PAYSON, D. D.

Isaiah's harp and David's, and to walk

With Enoch, and Elijah, and the host

Of the just men made perfect. He shall bow
At Gabriel's hallelujah, and unfold

The scroll of the Apocalypse with John,
And talk of Christ with Mary, and go back
To the last supper, and the garden prayer
With the beloved disciple. He shall hear
The story of the Incarnation told
By Simeon, and the Triune mystery
Burning upon the fervent lips of Paul.
He shall have wings of glory, and shall soar
To the remoter firmaments, and read

The order and the harmony of stars;

And, in the might of knowledge, he shall bow
In the deep pauses of archangel harps,
And, humble as the seraphim, shall cry,

Who, by his searching, finds thee out, O God?

There shall he meet his children who have gone
Before him; and as other years roll on,
And his loved flock go up to him, his hand
Again shall lead them gently to the Lamb,
And bring them to the living waters there.

Is it so good to die? and shall we mourn
That he is taken early to his rest?

Tell me,
O mourner for the man of God,-
Shall we bewail our brother—that he died?

"As Christ's body, when it was in the grave, did there rest in hope, so shall the bodies of the saints, when they lay them down in the dust: 'My

flesh, also, shall rest in hope,' saith Christ. (Ps. xvi. 9.) In like manner the saints commit their bodies to the dust in hope: The righteous hath hope in his death.' (Prov. xiv. 32.) And as Christ's hope was not a vain hope, so neither shall their hope be vain."- FLAVEL.

THE TOMB NOT FEARFUL TO THE CHRISTIAN.

HERVEY.

As the roots, even of our choicest flowers, when deposited in the ground, are rude and ungraceful, but when they spring up into blooming life are most elegant and splendid, so the flesh of a saint, when committed to the dust, alas! what is it? A heap of corruption, a mass of putrefying clay. But when it obeys the great archangel's call, and starts into a new existence, what an astonishing change ensues! What a most ennobling improvement takes place! That which is sown in weakness was raised in all the vivacity of power. That which was sown in deformity is raised in the bloom of celestial beauty. Exalted, refined, and glorified, it will shine "as the brightness of the firmament," when it darts the inimitable blue through the fleeces - the snowy fleeces of some cleaving cloud. Fear not, then, thou faithful Christian; fear not, at the appointed time, to descend into the tomb. The soul thou mayst trust with thy omnipotent Redeemer, who is Lord of the unseen world, "who has the keys of hell and of death." Most safely

74

FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.

mayst thou trust thy better part in those beneficent hands, which were pierced with nails, and fastened to the ignominious tree, for thy salvation. With regard to thy earthly tabernacle, be not dismayed. It is taken down only to be rebuilt upon a diviner plan, and in a more heavenly form. If it retires into the shadow of death, and lies immured in the gloom of the grave, it is only to return from a short confinement to endless liberty. If it falls into dissolution, it is in order to rise more illustrious from its ruins, and wear an infinitely brighter face of perfection and of glory.

FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.

LONGFELLOW.

WHEN the hours of day are numbered,
And the voices of the night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;

The beloved, the true-hearted,

Come to visit me once more.

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life.

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more.

And with them the being beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else, to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me

With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,

Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air.

76

TO A BEREAVED SISTER.

O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,

If I but remember only

Such as these have lived and died.

TO A BEREAVED SISTER.

S. WELLS WILLIAMS.

If it be not all of life to live here, and this life be rather a night than a life, as Paul calls it, then is your brother alive rather than dead. He has gone through this night, and now sees the day, the daystar, the sun, the temple, and holy city, which needeth no sun or moon and we should rejoice. He has burst those goodly walls in which he was so stoutly ensconced, and is now at large in the plains and pastures, where the good Shepherd, leading his flock beside the still waters, gives them such aliment as we could not stomach; teaches them such mysteries as we could not fathom; rejoices them with such entertainments as would make us heady, and rewards them with himself. I was greatly refreshed with your account of his sickness and death; for such testimonials cheer us onward through the days appointed to us. That you should mourn the departure of G― is proper; for the sweet intercourse you had can be had no more; the mutual counsel and assistance can be no longer afforded; and all those grateful favors, which bind us