FtOKA’S ALBUM. 105 I 
Snow Ball. 
THOUGHTS OF HEAVEN, 
Forget this world, my restless sprite, 
Turn, turn thy thoughts to heaven ; 
There must thou soon direct thy flight. 
If errors are forgiven. 
To bigots and to sects unknown. 
Bow down beneath the Almighty’s throne, — 
To him address thy trembling prayer; 
He who is merciful and just 
Will not reject a child of dust. 
Although his meanest care. Byron. 
Oh! beautiful is heaven, and bright 
With long, long summer days; 
I see its lilies gleam in light. 
Where many a fountain plays. 
Oh! Heaven is where no secret dread 
May haunt Love’s meeting hour; 
Where, from the past, no gloom is shed 
O’er the heart’s chosen bower; 
Where every severed wreath is bound; 
And none have heard the knell 
That smites the soul in that wild sound, — 
“ Farewell'. beloved, farewell! ” 
Mrs. Hemans. 
