THE GENIUS OF DEATH

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The Genius of Death.

The Genfus of Death is beautifully represented in the "Gem" as a winged boy, his weeping eyes covered with his left arm, and trailing a torch reversed in the right hand.

WHAT is death? "Tis to be free!
No more to love, or hope, or fear—
To join the great equality :

All alike are humbled there!

The mighty grave

Wraps lord and slave;

Nor pride nor poverty dares come
Within that refuge-home, the tomb!

Spirit with the drooping wing,
And the ever-weeping eye,
Thou of all earth's kings art king!
Empires at thy footstool lie!

Beneath thee strew'd

Their multitude

Sink like waves upon the shore;

Storms shall never rouse them more!

What's the grandeur of the earth
To the grandeur round thy throne?
Riches, glory, beauty, birth,

To thy kingdom all have gone.
Before thee stand

The wondrous band;

Bards, heroes, sages, side by side,
Who darken'd nations when they died!

Earth has hosts; but thou canst show Many a million for her one; Through thy gates the mortal flow Has for countless years roll'd on. Back from the tomb

No step has come;

There fix'd, till the last thunder's sound

Shall bid thy prisoners be unbound!

FRIEND

SORROW.

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Friend Sorrow.

Do not cheat thy heart, and tell her
"Grief will pass away-
Hope for fairer times in future

And forget to-day."

Tell her, if you will, that sorrow

Need not come in vain;

Tell her that the lesson taught her

Far outweighs the pain.

Cheat her not with the old comfort,

"Soon she will forget "—

Bitter truth, alas! but matter

Rather for regret.

Bid her not "Seek other pleasures

Turn to other things:"

Rather nurse her cagèd sorrow

Till the captive sings.

Rather bid her go forth bravely,
And the stranger greet,

Not as foe, with shield and buckler,
But as dear friends meet.

Bid her with a strong clasp hold her By her dusky wings;

And she'll whisper low and gently

Blessings that she brings.

HOW PEACEFULLY!

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How Peacefully!

How peacefully they rest!

Cross-folded there

Upon his little breast!

Those tiny hands that ne'er were still before;
But ever sported with its mother's hair,
Or the bright gem that on her breast she wore!

Her heart no more will beat
To feel the touch of that soft palm,
That ever seem'd a new surprise,
Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes,
To bless him with their holy calm;
Sweet thoughts, that left her eyes as sweet!

How quiet are the hands.

That wore those pleasant bands!
But that they do not rise and sink
With his calm breathing, I should think
That he were dropp'd asleep.
Alas! too deep-too deep