THE DYING BOY.

Ir must be sweet in childhood to give back
The spirit to its Maker; ere the heart
Has grown familiar with the paths of sin,

And sown

- to garner up its bitter fruits.

I knew a boy whose infant feet had trod

Upon the blossoms of some seven springs,

And when the eighth came round and called him out

To revel in its light, he turned away,

And sought his chamber to lie down and die. 'Twas night, he summoned his accustomed friends,

And in this wise bestowed his last requests:

“Mother, I'm dying now!

There is deep suffocation in my breas.,
As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed;
And on my brow

I feel the cold sweat stand;

--

My lips grow dry and tremulous, and my breath Comes feebly up. O! tell me, is this death? Mother! your hand –

“Here, lay it on my wrist,

And place the other now beneath my head;

And say, sweet mother, say,

Shall I be miss'd?

when I am dead,

"Never, beside your knee,

Shall I kneel down again at night to pray, Nor with the morning wake, and sing the lay You taught to me :

When

you

O! at the time of prayer,

look round and see a vacant seat,

You will not wait then for my coming feet-
You'll miss me there!

"Father, I'm going home!

To the good home you spoke of: that blessed land

Where it is one bright summer always, and
Storms do not come:

I must be happy then,

From pain and death you say I shall be free,
That sickness never enters there, and we
Shall meet again!

"Brother! the little spot

I used to call my garden, where long hours We've strayed to watch the budding things and flowers,

Forget it not!

Plant there some box or pine:

Something that lives in winter, and will be

A verdant offering to my memory,

And call it mine.

"Sister! my young rose-tree,

That all the spring hath been my pleasant care, Just putting forth its leaves so green and fair,

I give to thee;

And when its roses bloom,

I shall be gone away

short life gone:

But will you not bestow a single one
Upon my tomb?

You

"Now, mother, sing the tune

sang last night: I'm weary, and must sleep; Who was it called my name? Nay, do not weep; You'll all come soon!"

Morning spread over earth her rosy wings,
And that young sufferer, cold and ivory pale,
Lay on his couch asleep. The gentle air
Came through the opening window, freighted
with

The savory odors of the early spring:

He breathed it not; the laugh of passers-by Jarred like a discord in some mournful tune, But marred not his slumbers. He was dead!

THE OTHER SIDE.

ONCE, in a happy home, a sweet, bright baby died. On the evening of the day, when the children gathered round their mother, all sitting very sorrowful, Alice, the eldest, said, "Mother, you took all the care of baby while she was here, and you carried and held her in your arms all the while she was ill. Now, mother, who took her on the other side?" "On the other side of what, Alice?" "On the other side of death; who took the baby on the other side, mother? she was so little she could not go alone." "Jesus met her there," answered the mother. "It is He who took little children in His arms to bless them, and said, 'Suffer them to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven!' He took the baby on the other side."

THE GIFT.

THEN thou, the mother of so sweet a child,
Her false imagined loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
And render Him with patience what He lent.

MILTON.

LITTLE HERBERT.

GATHER all his playthings up;
We shall never see them more,
From his dimpled, dainty hands,
Wildly thrown about the floor.

He is weary of them all,

Cares no more with them to play; Leaving them, he hallows them: Lay them lovingly away.

He hath heard the words of blessing, Bidding little children "Come;" Earthly love cannot detain him Longer from his heavenly home.

Fold his little snowy hands,
Lay them gently on his breast;
Now he lieth still and calm,

Vision fair of perfect rest.

Bless him in his beauty there,

Bless his solemn slumber deep;

"God's beloved, early crowned With the mystic sign of "sleep."*

*"He giveth his beloved sleep."