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ers, whose delicacy would shrink from observation, but whose tenderness would be soothed by secret visits to the grave, and by holding converse there with their departed joys? Why all this unnatural restraint upon our sympathies and sorrows, which confines the visit to the grave to the only time in which it must be utterly useless; when the heart is bleeding with fresh anguish, and is too weak to feel, and too desolate to desire consolation ?
DEATH AND SLEEP: A PARABLE.
LINKED together like brothers, the angel of sleep and the angel of death walked through the earth. It was evening. They laid themselves down upon a hill not far from the abodes of men.
A melancholy stillness reigned all around, and the evening bell in the distant hamlet had ceased to toll. In quietness and silence, as their manner is, the two beneficent genii of mankind sat in confiding embrace, and night was already drawing near. Then the angel of sleep arose from his mossy couch, and with gentle hand scattered the imperceptible seeds of slumber. The evening wind bore them away to the habitation of the weary peasant. And now, sweet sleep came over the occupants of the rural cottages, from the gray head, who goes on his staff, down to the infant in the cradle. Sickness forgot its pains, mourning its grief, penury its cares. The eyes of all were closed. After finishing his labor, the benevolent angel of sleep lay down again beside his brother.
“When the morning blushes in the east,” he exclaimed with gladsome innocence, “men praise me as their friend and benefactor! O, what joy, to do good, unseen and in secret! How happy are we, the invisible ministers of the good spirit! How delightful our peaceful, quiet office!" Thus spake the friendly angel of sleep.
The angel of death looked upon him in silent sorrowfulness, and a tear, such as immortals weep, stood in his large, dark eye. “Alas !" said he," that I cannot, like you, congratulate myself on the joyful gratitude of men ! The whole earth calls me its
enemy, and the spoiler of its joys!" "O, my brother," replied the angel of sleep, “ will not the good, in the resurrection, also recognize in thee a friend and benefactor, and gratefully bless thee? Are we not brethren, and ministers of one father?" Thus he spake, while the eye of the angel of death brightened up, and the fraternal genii embraced each other' still more tenderly.
F. A. KRUMMACUER.
THE FIRST WANDERER.
CREATION's heir! the first, the last,
That knew the world his own;
A fugitive, o'erthrown!
And changed his soul within,
Told the dark secret_Sin!
Unaided and alone on earth,
He bade the heavens give ear;
Kept silence in its sphere:
Angelic legions stray;
His guilty foot away.
The world before him spread;
And breathed rebuke and dread :
Answered the storm-swept sea,
And all said, “Cursed for thee.”
And this, the victim's cry;
Forever met his eye :
And not alone each sterner power
Proclaimed just Heaven's decree,
Alike said " Cursed for thee."
Though mortal, doomed to many a length
Of life's now narrow span,
They, too, proclaimed the ban.
Seen, in the murderer's doom,
Felt, in the infant's tomb.
Ask not the wanderer's after-fate,
His being, birth, or name;
That man is still the same.
Still strives his soul within;
The same dark secret_Sin. Miss M. J. JEWSBURY.
Who hath believed our report? And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, And as a root out of dry ground : He hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, There is no beauty that we should desire him.
He is despised and rejected of men;
Surely, he hath borne our griefs,
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
When thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin,
TRIUMPH OF THE GOSPEL.
Lift up thine eyes round about, and see!
Who are these that fly as a cloud ?
Thou shalt know, that I, the Lord, am thy Savior;