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DETACHED THOUGHTS.

Birds will not sing as once they sung,
When ye were at my side,

And mournful tones are in the wind,
Which I heard not till ye died!

SOUTHEY.

THEY sin who tell us love can die;
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.

In heaven ambition cannot dwell;
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell;
Earthly those passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
But love is indestructible.

Its holy flame forever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth ;
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,

At times deceived, at times oppressed,

It here is tried and purified,

Then hath in heaven its perfect rest.
It soweth here in toil and care,

But the harvest time of love is there.

CHILDREN IN HEAVEN.

ANONYMOUS.

WHO are they whose little feet,

Pacing life's dark journey through,
Now have reached that heavenly seat
They have ever kept in view?

Each the welcome "Come" awaits,
Conquerors over death and sin;
Lift your heads, ye golden gates,

Let the little travellers in.

"While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."-2 SAMUEL Xii.

A COTTAGER'S LAMENT.

ANONYMOUS.

SWEET, laughing child—the cottage door
Stands free and open now;
But, O, its sunshine gilds no more
The gladness of thy brow.

Thy merry step hath passed away,
Thy laughing sport is hushed for aye.

Thy mother by the fireside sits,

And listens for thy call;
And slowly, slowly as she knits,
Her quiet tears down fall:
Her little hindering thing is gone,
And undisturbed she may work on.

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THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.

แ

THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

THERE is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

"Shall I have nought that is fair?" saith he;
"Have nought but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again."

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,

He kissed their drooping leaves;

It was for the Lord of Paradise

He bound them in his sheaves.

"My Lord hath need of these flowerets gay,"

The Reaper said, and smiled;

"Dear tokens of the earth are they,

Where he was once a child.

'They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care;

And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear."

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;

She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
"Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

HERVEY.

YONDER White stone, emblem of the innocence it covers, informs the beholder of one who breathed out its tender soul almost in the instant of receiving it. There the peaceful infant, without so much as knowing what labor and vexation mean, "lies still, and is quiet it sleeps, and is at rest." (Job iii. 13.) Staying only to wash away its native impurity in the laver of regeneration, it bade a speedy adieu to time and terrestrial things. What did the little hasty sojourner find so forbidding and disgustful in our upper world to occasion its precipitant exit? It is written, indeed, of its suffering Savior, that when he had tasted the vinegar mingled with gall, he would not drink, (Matt. xxvii. 34;) and did our new-come stranger begin to sip the cup of life, but, perceiving

132

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

the bitterness, turn away its head, and refuse the draught? Was this the cause why the wary babe only opened its eyes, just looked on the light, and then withdrew into the more inviting regions of undisturbed repose?

Happy voyager! no sooner launched than arrived at the haven. Highly-favored probationer! accepted without being exercised. It was thy peculiar privilege not to feel the slightest of those evils which oppress thy surviving kindred; which frequently fetch groans from the most manly fortitude, or most elevated faith. The arrows of calamity, barbed with anguish, are often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery darts of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are always flying in showers around our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, both these distresses and dangers were alike unknown.

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. Why should you lament that your little ones are crowned with victory before the sword was drawn, or the conflict begun? Perhaps the Supreme Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adversity impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied with that kind precaution which housed your pleasant plant, and removed into shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roared, before the lightnings flew, before the tempest poured its rage? O, remember, they are not lost, but taken away from the evil to come. (Is. lvii. 1.)