For lying broad awake I thought of you and Effie dear;
I saw you sitting in the house,-and I no longer there!
With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt
resign'd,

Then up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.

I thought that it was fancy, and I listened in my bed, And then did something speak to me-I know not what was said:

For great delight and shuddering took hold of all my mind : the valley came again the music on the wind.

And

*

up

*

*

*

*

*

So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know The blessed music went the way my soul will have to go.

To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast— Where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are

at rest.

TENNYSON.

At that moment the sound of a funeral bell struck my ear. It proceeded from a village church in the valley directly beneath the ridge of a high hill, over which I had taken my way. It was Elizabeth's funeral knell. The scenery was in unison with that tranquil frame of mind, which is most suitable for holy meditation. A rich and fruitful valley lay immediately beneath; it was adorned with corn fields and pastures, through which a small river winded in a variety of directions, and many herds grazed upon its banks("Do any of my readers inquire why I describe so minutely the circumstances of prospect and

scenery which may be connected with the incidents I relate? My reply is that the God of creation is the God likewise of redemption) "The soldier took my horse, and tied it up in a shed. A solemn serenity appeared to surround the whole place; it was only interrupted by the breezes passing through the large elm trees, which stood near the house, and which my imagination indulged itself in thinking were plaintive sighs of sorrow. I gently opened the door; no one appeared, all was still silent"It is not easy to describe the sensation, which the mind experiences on the first sight of a dead countenance which, when living, was loved and esteemed for the sake of that soul, which used to give it animation. A deep and awful view of the separation that has taken place between the soul and body of the deceased, since we last beheld them, occupies the feelings, Our friend appears to be both near and yet afar off. The features present the accustomed association of friendly intercourse. For one moment we could think them asleep. The next reminds us that the blood circulates no more; the eye has lost its power of seeing, the ear of hearing, the heart of throbbing, and the limbs of moving. Quickly a thought of glory breaks in upon the mind, and we imagine the dear departed soul to be arrived at its long-wished-for rest. Amid the solemn stillness of the chamber of death imagination hears heavenly hymns chanted by the spirits of just men made perfect." LEGH RICHMOND.

Answer me, burning stars of night,

Where is the spirit gone,

That past the reach of human sight,

As a swift breeze, hath flown?

And the stars answered me;

"We roll

In light and power on high;
But of the never dying soul

Ask that which cannot die."

Ye clouds, that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,

Answer: have ye a home for those,
Whose earthly race is run?

The bright clouds answered; "We depart,
We vanish from the sky;

Ask what is deathless in thy heart
For that which cannot die."

Speak then, thou voice of God within

Thou of the deep low tone!

Answer me through life's restless din !
Where is the spirit gone?

HEMANS.

Oh! heaven is nearer than mortals think,
When they look with a trembling dread
At the misty future, that stretches on
From the quiet house of the dead.

'Tis no lone isle in a boundless main,
No brilliant but distant shore,

Where the lovely ones, who are called away,
Must go to return no more.

No! heaven is near us; the mighty veil

Of mortality blinds the eye,

That we cannot see the angel bands

On the shores of eternity.

Yet oft, in the hours of lonely thought,
To the ardent soul is given

Power to pierce through the mists of sense
To the beauteous scenes of heaven.

Then, very near seem its pearly gates;
And sweetly its harpings fall;
Till the soul is restless to soar away,
And longs for the angel-call.

I know, when the silver cord is loosed,
When the veil is rent away,
Not long and dark shall the passage
To the realms of endless day.

The eye, that shuts in a dying hour,
Shall open the next in bliss ;

be

The welcome shall sound in the heavenly world
Ere the farewell is hush'd in this.

We pass from the clasp of earthly friends
To the arms of the loved ones there,

And those dear faces we then shall greet
Which on earth we have held most dear.
An Old Magazine.

Frail is the barrier that divides
The yearning spirit from its kind,
And thin the veil that barely hides
The circumambient world of mind.

HENNEYSON.

I knew that we must part-day after day
I saw the dread Destroyer win his way;
That hollow cough first rang the fatal knell,
As on my ear its prophet-warning fell,
Feeble and slow thy, once light, footstep grew,
Thy wasting cheek put on death's pallid hue;
Thy thin hot hand to mine more deeply clung;
Each sweet "Good night" fell fainter from thy tongue.
I knew that we must part-no power could save
Thy quiet goodness from an early grave.

*

And we have parted, Mary-thou art gone!
Gone in thine innocence, meek, suffering one.
Thy weary spirit breathed itself to sleep
So peacefully, it seemed a sin to weep

In those fond watchers who around thee stood,
And felt e'en then that God, e'en then, was good.
Like stars that struggle through the clouds of night,
Thine eyes one moment caught a glorious light;
As if to thee in that dread hour 'twere given,
To know on earth what faith believes of heaven;
Then, like tired breezes, didst thou sink to rest,
Nor one, one pang the awful change confessed.
C. SPRAGUE.

We are assured that what is truly good cannot possibly be lost, and that, whatsoever has conjunction with heaven and its God, must needs endure for ever. Í will add (because the Sacred Scriptures give the intimation) that the spirits of our dear departed friends must needs be