THE HARP OF PITCAIKN. 301 
This body so wasted by ling' ring disease, 
That scarce to the worms it can furnish a meal, 
Insatiate death as a trophy may seize, 
And in me the sad fruits of transgression reveal : 
But must I for ever continue his prey ? 
No, Jesus my dust from his grasp shall retrieve ; 
The call to arise I shall gladly obey ; 
I believe, I believe. 
I know, on this earth my Redeemer shall stand, 
And these eyes, though now dim, shall his glories 
behold; 
My powers so reduced, shall with knowledge expand, 
And this heart throb with rapture, which now beats so 
cold : 
His voice I shall hear, and in accents divine, 
Shall I, then made worthy, a welcome receive ; 
In his presence to dwell 'twill for ever be mine ; 
I believe, I believe. 
This then is my hope ; and I am not deceived, 
On the word of my God I can fully depend ; 
I know by the Spirit, on whom I've believed; 
That He will support and console to the end ; 
Immanuel's death hath Jehovah appeased ; 
That death on the cross did my ransom achieve ; 
That death is my passport when I arn released : 
I believe, I believe ; yes, I firmly believe. 
POLLY, the wife of GEORGE ADAMS, departed 
this life December 17th,- 1843, aged 48 years. 
1 have merely versified part of the foregoing 
conversation. It is in sum and substance a 
reply to an inquiry made by me concerning her 
state of mind in the prospect of death, which 
was then rapidly approaching. Assuredly, her 
end was peace. 
GEORGE H. NOBBS, 
Pastor and Schoolmaster. 
