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CREEDS OF THE BELLS.

How sweet the chime of Sabbath bells!
Each one its creed in music tells,
In tones that float upon the air,
As soft as song, as pure as prayer:
And I will put in simple rhyme
The language of the golden chime.
My happy heart with rapture swells
Reponsive to the bells-sweet bells.

"In deeds of love excel-excel,"
Chimed out from ivied towers a bell;
"This is the church not built on sands,
Emblem of one not built with hands;
Its forms and sacred rites revere;
Come worship here--come worship here;
Its rituals and faith excel-excel."
Chimed out the Episcopalian bell.

"O, heed the ancient landmarks well,"
In solemn tones exclaimed a bell;
"No progress made by mortal man
Can change the just, eternal plan.
With God there can be nothing new;
Ignore the false, embrace the true,
While all is well-is well-is well,"
Pealed out the good old Dutch Church bell.

“O swell, ye purifying waters, swell,”
In mellow tones rang out a bell;
"Though faith alone in Christ can save,
Man must be plunged beneath the wave,

To show the world unfaltering faith
In what the sacred Scripture saith.

O swell, ye rising waters, swell,"

Pealed out the clear-toned Baptist bell.

"Not faith alone, but works as well,

Must test the soul," said a soft bell;

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"Come here, and cast aside your load,
And work your way along the road,
With faith in God, and faith in man,
And hope in Christ, where hope began:
Do well-do well-do well-do well,"
Pealed forth the Unitarian bell,

"Farewell! farewell! base world, farewell,"
In gloomy tones exclaimed a bell;
"Life is a boon to mortals given,
To fit the soul for bliss in heaven.
Do not invoke the avenging rod;
Come here, and learn the way to God.
Say to the world farewell! farewell!"
Pealed out the Presbyterian bell.

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"How do you do, Cornelia? I heard you were sick, and I stepped in to cheer you a little. My friends often say: 'It's such a

comfort to see you, Anty Doleful. You have such a flow of conversation and are so lively. Besides, I said to myself, as I came up the stairs, Perhaps it's the last time I'll ever see Cornelia Jane alive.'

You don't mean to die yet, eh? Well, now, how do you know? You can't tell. You think you are getting better; but there was poor Mrs. Jones sitting up, and every one saying how smart she was, and all of a sudden she was taken with spasms in the heart, and went off like a flash. But you must be careful, and not get anxious or excited. Keep quite calmn, and don't fret about anything. Of course, things can't go on just as if you were down stairs; and I wondered whether you knew your little Billy was sailing about in a tub in the mill-pond, and that your little Sammy was letting your little Jimmy down from the veranda roof in a clothes-basket.

"Gracious goodness! what's the matter? I guess Providence 'll take care of 'em. Don't look so. You thought Bridget was watching them? Well, no, she isn't. I saw her talking to a man at the gate. He looked to me like a burglar. No doubt she let him take the impression of the door-key in wax, and then he'll get in and murder you all. There was a family at Kobble Hill all killed last week for fifty dollars. Now, don't fidget so; it will be bad for the baby.

"Poor little dear! How singular it is, to be sure, that you can't tell whether a child is blind, or deaf or dumb, or a cripple at that age. It might be all, and you'd never know it.

"Most of them that have their senses make bad use of them, though; that ought to be your comfort, if it does turn out to have anything dreadful the matter with it. And more don't live a year. I saw a baby's funeral down the street as I came along.

"How is Mr. Kobble? Well, I should think he would. They are dropping down by hundreds there with sun-stroke. You must prepare your mind to have him brought home any day Anyhow, a trip on them railroad trains is just risking your life every time you take one. Back and forth every day as he is, it's just trifling with danger.

Well, but finds it warm in town, eh?

"Dear! dear! now to think what dreadful things hang over us all the time; Dear! dear!

"Scarlet fever has broken out in the village, Cornelia. Little Isaac Potter has it, and I saw your Jimmy playing with him last Saturday.

"Well, I must be going, now. I've another sick friend, and I shan't think I've done my duty unless I cheer her up a little before I sleep.

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