THL- WUECK. 97 



Stood, and, anticipating death, 



Mus'd on the bliss succeeding breath. 



She sprang, and warmed his breast to share 



His hope with those around in prayer. 



He pray'd — and, as when day's pure light. 



Screens the ill shadows of the night. 



And arms with confidence the soul. 



Which fled the vision's black controul ; 



So, 'fore religion's magic sun. 



Death's awful garb, of terrors spun, 



Roll'd off, and mercy in the blaze, 



Smil'd on, and cheer *d each fearful gaze. 



Thus calmness stole upon the scene. 



While death thro' life was dimly seen ; 



But soon his fingers colder press'd. 



His dart with life blood soon was dress'd. 



Oh ! where shall words, the offspring weak , 



Of feeble thought, the colours seek 



Truly to paint that moment dread. 



When hope their sinking refuge fled. 



* ' * * * * 



Tis o'er ! the whirling stream lies still ; 



Destruction — death — ^have had their fill. 



Life's tenements in that calm deep. 



Sought and have found the wakeless sleep j 



No more the son of toil may stretch. 



The hand of labour forth, and fetch 



The glistening sweat upon his brow. 



The native charms of rest to know ; 



No more the mother's partial eye. 



Like a meridian sun-lit sky 



May brighten, as it turns with pride 



To view the offspring by her side. 



No more that voice, which oft hath led. 



Shall lead to the creation's head. 



The heart-bom worship of the few. 



Who taught by grace, give God his due ; 



That voice life's barrier has cross'd. 



And in the caves of death is lost ! c. t. 



