









FLORA’S ALBUM. 











































































Cypress. 
« The mournful cypress rises round, 
Tapering from the durial ground.” 
DEATH. 
Be not afraid 5 
LUCAN. 
‘T is but a pang, and then a thrill, 
A fever fit, and then a chill, 
And then an end of human ill, 
For thou art dead. 
The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
Is privileged beyond the common walk 
Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven. 
Death, — 
Youne. 
The portal, opening into Paradise ; 
Where grace, that in the bud was here below, 
Into the flower of glory straight shall blow. 
Franois TayLor. 1658. 
Think, mother! while sweet tears are shed, 
How blessed are the early dead! 
W. B. TAPPAN. 

























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