I SEE THEE STILL.

I SEE thee still;

Remembrance, faithful to her trust,
Calls thee in beauty from the dust;
Thou comest in the morning light,
Thou 'rt with me through the gloomy night;
In dreams I meet thee as of old;
Then thy soft arms my neck enfold,
And thy sweet voice is in my ear;
In every scene to memory dear,
I see thee still.

I see thee still,

In every hallowed token round;·
This little ring thy finger bound,
This lock of hair thy forehead shaded,
This silken chain by thee was braided,
These flowers, all withered now, like thee,
Sweet Sister, thou didst cull for me;

This book was thine; here didst thou read; ah! yes, here, indeed,

This picture

I see thee still.

I see thee still;

Here was thy summer noon's retreat,

Here was thy favorite fireside seat;

This was thy chamber-here, each day,
I sat and watched thy sad decay;

Here, on this bed, thou last didst lie;
Here, on this pillow, thou didst die.
Dark hour! once more its woes unfold;
As then I saw thee, pale and cold,
I see thee still.

Death cannot claim the immortal Mind;
Let Earth close o'er its sacred trust,
But Goodness dies not in the dust;
Thee, O my Sister! 't is not thee
Beneath the coffin's lid I see!
Thou to a fairer land art gone;
There, let me hope, my journey done,
To see thee still!

CHARLES SPRAGUE.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

A GUARDIAN ANGEL bore it to the shore

Where souls embark upon Life's stormy sea, When, turning from the angry billows' roar, The infant cried, "O take me back with thee!"

TO A MOTHER ON LOSING AN INFANT

DAUGHTER.

That

GOD does nothing without a reason. reason may have respect to you - it may have respect to your child, and not unlikely to both. He sees effects in their causes. Your case may have been this: you may have been in danger of loving the world too much, and He removed the cause in time. Her case may have been this: she may have been in danger from the growth of a corrupt nature, and He took her in the bud of being that she might grow without imperfection, "for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Think of your child, then, not as dead but as living, not as a flower that is withered, but as one that is transplanted, and, touched by a divine hand, is blooming in richer colors and sweeter shades than those of earth, though to your eyes these last may have been beautiful, more beautiful than you will hope to see again.

"With patient mind thy course of duty run,
God nothing does nor suffers to be done

But thou wouldst do thyself if thou could'st see
The end of all He does as well as He."

REV. HERMAN HOOKER.

THE THIRD SON.

I HAVE a son, a third sweet son;

For they reckon not by years and months, Where he hath gone to dwell.

To us, for fourteen anxious months
His infant smiles were given,
And then he bade farewell to earth,
And went to live in heaven.

I cannot tell what form is his,
What looks he weareth now,
Nor guess how bright a glory crowns
His shining seraph brow.

The thoughts that fill his sinless soul,
The bliss which he doth feel,
Are numbered with the secret things
Which God will not reveal.

But I know, for God hath told me this,

That he is now at rest,

Where other blessed infants are,

On their Saviour's loving breast.

Whate'er befalls his brethren twain,

His bliss can never cease;
Their lot may here be grief and fear,
But his is certain peace.

It may be that the tempter's wiles
Their souls from bliss may sever,
But, if our own poor faith fail not,
He must be ours forever.

When we think on what our darling is,

And what we still must be;

When we muse on that world's perfect bliss,

And this world's misery;

When we groan beneath this load of sin,
And feel this grief and pain,

O, we'd rather lose our other two,

Than have him here again.

REV. J. MOULTRIE.

THE YOUNGEST.

I ROCKED her in the cradle,

old;

And laid her in the tomb. She was the youngest.
What fireside circle hath not felt the charm
Of that sweet tie? The youngest ne'er grow
The fond endearments of our earlier days
We keep alive in them; and when they die,
Our youthful joys we bury with them.