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So I'm watching aye an' singing o' my hame as I wait,
For the soun'ing o' his footsteps this side the gowden gate.
God gie his grace to ilka ane wha listens noo to me,
That we a' may gang in gladness to our ain countree.
ANONYMOUS.

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But lying darkly between,

Winding down through the night,
Is the silent unknown stream

That leads at last to the light.

Closer and closer my steps

Come to the dread abysm;

Closer Death to my lips

Presses the awful chrism.

Father, perfect my trust!

Strengthen my feeble faith!

Let me feel as I would, when I stand
On the shore of the river of Death.

THE GENIUS OF DEATH.

411

Feel as I would, when my feet
Are slipping over the brink;
For it may be, I'm nearer home,
Nearer now than I think.

PHOEBE CAREY.

The Genius of Death.

HAT is Death? 't is to be free!

WHA

No more to love or hope or fear

To join the great equality:

All alike are humbled here!

The mighty grave

Wraps lord and slave :

Nor pride nor poverty dares come
Within that refuge house, 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 strewed

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 darkened nations when they died!

Earth hath hosts; but thou canst show
Many a million for her one;
Through thy gates the mortal flow
Has for countless years rolled on:
Back from the tomb

No step has come;

There fixed, till the last thunder's sound
Shall bid thy prisoners be unbound!

GEORGE CROLY.

"E

A Dirge.

ARTH to earth, and dust to dust!"
Here the evil and the just,

Here the youthful and the old,
Here the fearful and the bold,
Here the matron and the maid,
In one silent bed are laid;
Here the vassal and the king
Side by side lie withering;

Here the sword and scepetr rust

"Earth to earth, and dust to dust!"

Age on age shall roll along

O'er this pale and mighty throng;
Those that wept them, they that weep,
All shall with these sleepers sleep;
Brothers, sisters of the worm,—
Summer's sun, or Winter's storm,

Song of peace, or battle's roar

Ne'er shall break their slumbers more;
Death shall keep his sullen trust--
"Earth to earth, and dust to dust!"

But a day is coming fast

Earth, thy mightiest and thy last!

A DIRGE.

It shall come in fear and wonder,
Heralded by trump and thunder;
It shall come in strife and toil,
It shall come in blood and spoil;
It shall come in empires' groans,
Burning temples, ruined thrones ;
Then Ambition, rue thy lust!
"Earth to earth, and dust to dust!"

Then shall come the judgment sign;
In the east the King shall shine,
Flashing from heaven's golden gate-
Thousands, thousands, round his state-
Spirits with the crown and plume;
Tremble then, thou sullen tomb!

Heaven shall open on thy sight,
Earth be turned to living light—
Kingdom of the ransomed just—-
"Earth to earth, and dust to dust."

413

Then thy mount, Jerusalem,
Shall be gorgeous as a gem!
Then shall in the desert rise
Fruits of more than Paradise;
Earth by angel feet be trod-
One great garden of her God!
Till are dried the martyr's tears,
Through a thousand glorious years!
Now in hope of him we trust-
"Earth to earth, and dust to dust."

GEORGE CROLY.

To the Southern Cross.

WEET Empress of the Southern sea,
Hail to thy loveliness once more!

Thou gazest mournfully on me,

As mindful we have met before!

When first I saw the Polar Star

Go down behind the silver sea, And greeted thy mild light from far, I did not know its mystery.

My Polar Star was by my side,

The star of hope was on my brow; I've lost them both beneath the tideThe cross alone is left me now.

Not such as thou, sweet Thing of stars,
Moving in queenly state on high,
But wrought of stern, cold iron bars,
And borne, ah me! so wearily!

Yet something from those soft, warm skies
Seems whispering, "Thou shall yet be blest!"

And gazing in thy tender eyes,

The symbol brightens on my breast.

I read at last the mystery

That slumbers in each starry gem;

The weary pathway to the sky—

The iron cross-the diadem.

EMILY C. JUDSON.

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