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when, neither envvi .g the peacock his splendid plumage, nor the proud 
eagle her lefty realm, it drops singing into its grassy nest, to caress its 
young, an . with its wings to shield them from the cold dews of the night V 9 
Oh! why delight to wrap the soul 
In pail of fancied sadness? 
’T were best be merry while we live, 
And paint our cheeks with gladness. 
What if hope tells a “flattering tale,” 
And mocks us by deceiving, 
? T is better far to be content: 
There’s nothing made by grieving. 
—Laurence Labree. 
Cyprey^. 
“The mournful cypress rises round, 
Tapering from the burial ground.” 
— Lucan. 
As having anciently been used at funerals, and to adorn tombs, Cy¬ 
press is an emblem of mourning and sadness. 
Death. 
“Thy day has come, not gone. 
Thy sun has risen, not set, 
Thy life is now beyond.” 
—Horatius Bonar. 
1 EATH is hut life to a genuine Christian; it is not his last day, nor his 
worst day, but, in the highest sense, his best day, and the beginning 
of his better life. A Christian’s dying day will be his enlarging day , when 
he will be freed from the prison in which he has long been detained, and 
