« PreviousContinue »
AFFECTING CIRCUMSTANCE. The captain of a vessel from one of our 'northern sea-ports, went out with his wife and son, to the southern coast of England. By a fatal accident, he and his boy, a very promising lad, were both drowned within sight of the mother! and the vessel, which was their own, was lost. She was insured, but the insolvency of the office prevented the widow from obtaining any renumeration. Thus left, a widow indeed, she has not been overlooked. A gracious Providence has watched over her, and she has consolation in the reflection, that the departed were not uuprepared for their sudden removal. The two following fragments, written by the dear boy, and sent to us by an esteemed minister, exhibit favourable specimens of his ripening abilities and piety. They were written at Bonchurch in the Isle of Wight. THE NEW SABBATH SCHOLAR,
THE LAST DAY! Behold he comes ! the Judge of quick and dead,
Rich gems of glory glitter round his head; No more he wears the cruel wreath of thorns,
A nobler crown his heavenly brow adorns. See how he moves majestic through the sky!
While twice ten thousand seraphs round him iy. On harps of gold they chant the angelic strain,
And sing the triumphs of Messiah's reign. See how he rides serene amid the storm!
What glorious greatness marks his awful form! His piercing glance shoots through the thickest
Unequal to the terrors of the day;
And wild disorder mars her lovely form.
Nor the last tribute of respect refuse;
THE LAST DAY !
Drop thou a tear, and take the last adieu,
Before she sinks for ever from thy view. Hail, glorious Sun! sole monarch of the day,
Who sbines unrival'd in the aeriel way: Shall thy bright beams be veiled in endless night?
And shall these eyes no more behold thy light? Oft bast thou, when in childhood's opening dawn,
Tempted my feet across the dewy lawn;
Have gazed with pleasure on thy golden beam. Still lovelier thou appear'd when Calvary groan'd,
And the Great Saviour. of mankind aton'd; Behird a sable cloud thou didst retire,
Nor would behold thy glorious Lord expire. Thou silver moon, that shed'st a glimmering light,
To sooth the horrors of the wintry night,
When Jesus calls the nations to his bar.
Ye soon shall tumble midst the wreck of years, When the last trumpet wakes each vital soul,
And heaven is wrapt together like a scroll. Behold, the sleeping dust springs forth to life !
The faithful husband meets the loving wife; Like kindred spirits they forsake the clod,
And fly ath wart the heavens to meet their God. But hark! that awful crash, the world expires !
The mighty ocean from its bed retires ! The lofty mountains change their threatening form, And tumble headlong mid the general storn!
My soul, with joy anticipate the day
When thou tr brighter worlds shall soar away Up through the sky, on angel's pinions borne, To view the wonders of that happy moro!
ON VISITING THE DAIRYMAID'S
Waves in the wind its tender blade,
The ashes of the “ Dairymaid.” There let them lie till that great day,
When time shall droop his weary wing; Then shall they rise in rich array,
And bloom through one eternal spring. Alas! no more her honest smile
Shall cheer yon little rustic cot; No more the passing hours beguile
With useful toil, and serious thought. Oft would she, with a theme divine,
Her parents' aged bosoms warm; Kind actions with her precepts join,
And aid them in their little farm. But oh! the cold chill blast of death,
Soon swept her from her earthly home; But undismay'd she yields her breath,
And nobly triumphs o'er the tomb. She faintly smiled, then closed her eyes,
To her the welcome call was given;
She took the chariot of the skies,
And and like Elijah rose to heaven,
The blackbird's cheerful notes to hear;
Delight her soul, and charm her ear. Ob ! how the prospect charms my soul,
To think that I, among the rest, In that eternal sphere sball roll,
And join the anthems of the blest. Be this my hope, be this my care,
Far from my thoughts vain world be driven ; That, when I end life's short career, My soul may take its flight to heaven!
THE NEW SABBATH SCHOLAR.
The Teacher often told us all
That we were born in sin;
For none could save like him.
And death upon the tree;
For children young as we.
And all creation wide;