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Or rose bedewed by showers,
Compose its cell;
It seems to say
No tale of guilt these buds can tell, Here lies Creation's loveliest ray.
Joy can adorn a smile,
Or gild a tear,
Or funeral bier;
Where saints and angels joined appear, And laud th' Omnipotence divine.
PEACE is that calm repose
Which Heaven alone can give; It soothes the troubled mortal's woes,
Calms the lamenting bosom's throes, And bids the dying live.
Peace as a phantom flies
The conscience-tortured breast, Its healing power to such denies-
It seeks the contrite heart's disguise, 'Tis there it loves to rest.
Perchance it breathes awhile
Around the moonlit shade,
The new-born babe, devoid of guile, Nor yet by sin betrayed.
But when, as on a 'whelming flood,
This world's vain pomp has flown; For those redeemed by Jesus' blood, A
peace the world ne'er understood Remains around the throne.
ECCLESIASTES, III. 21.
“ Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward ?”
COME back! come back! thou art fleeting far
Come back! come back! thou hast left us all
Come back! come back! whither, roaming high,