Soon-soon, ELIZA follows in the train,

Thus twice the peace of numerous friends is slain ! *
A widowed mother, sisters, brothers dear,

And stricken husband, shed affection's tear!
And infant children-words, alas! how vain
Their loss to paint, or mitigate their pain!
A Mother's death creates an aching void

Earth ne'er can fill!-earth's bliss seems all destroyed!
The yawning chasm no length of years can close,
Ev'n sympathy seems but to awake our woes!
Ye, who have lost a tender Mother, say—
Can time efface the misery of that day,

When her loved form was ravished from your sight,
And left you, orphans, in this world's drear night!
And can condolence check the flowing tear?—
Doth it not, oft, but mockery appear?
Time's lenient hand may moderate our grief;
But nothing earthly yields entire relief.
The Gospel's light, alone, unfolds a ray,
Bright from the precincts of immortal day,
Which leads us to repose on God's dear Son,
And say, submissively, "Thy will be done;"
Inspires with hope, to meet in realms above,
And claim re-union with the friends we love.
This HOPE, that we will join our friends once more,

In blissful union, on the heavenly shore,

*Thy shafts flew twice, and twice my peace was slain !-DR. YOUNG.

May reconcile us to bereavement, here,
And rule, with just control, affliction's tear:
And, thus, our tears may flow o'er kindred, dead,
Approved of Him, who tears for Lazarus shed.

Religion's purer light dispels the gloom,
Which untaught reason spread around the tomb.
Before the SAVIOUR hallowed that drear bed,
All hope was buried with th' unconscious dead :
When He emerged from that sepulchral night,
LIFE, IMMORTALITY, were brought to light!

Then, hope was given, that those in CHRIST who sleep,
Death could no more in lasting bondage keep;
But in the SAVIOUR's image they should rise,
To reign with Him, in bliss beyond the skies.
His friendly voice pronounced the mourners blest ;—
For, comfort they shall find, and heavenly rest.*
Rich consolations in God's word abound ;-

For widows, orphans, joy and peace are found. †

This state of trial, this probation-day;
At longest, brief-full soon will pass away—
The rudiments of being!-This short space
Is here allotted us, a Day of Grace;
Which, if in wisdom's ways this day we spend,
Prepares for blessedness that ne'er will end.

*St. Matt. v. 4.

† Jer. xlix. 11.-Ps. lxviii. 5., etc.

Bereaved Mourners! ye, who feel the rod, Bear it with joy :-behold your Saviour, God, Who bore his cross;—and hear his kind behest"Take up your cross, and follow me to rest."* With such a Friend, O, never once despair,On Him cast all your burden-all your care: The race, before you set, with patience run; A crown of joy awaits your journey done. ELIZA, first, has gained that blest abode ;Our dying friends but smooth the rugged road!† —And, oh! the blissful hour! when we shall sail O'er Jordan's wave, and far-off Canaan hail! When, welcomed to th' exalted SAVIOUR'S Throne, We join in praises to the THREE IN ONE; And swell the tide of that angelick lay,

Which rolls unceasing through the realms of day!

*St. Matt. xi. 29.

+ Our dying friends are pioneers to smooth The rugged pass to death!-Dr. Young.

DITHYRAMBICK.15

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO THE EDITOR OF THE

"NEW YORK WEEKLY MESSENGER."

Variety 's the very spice of life.-Cowper.

Laugh where we must; be candid where we can.-POPE.

THOUGH NO Free-Mason, still I come,
At thy "grand hailing sign;”—
And though no scion here may bloom,
Of the oft courted NINE.

For who can here,

In region drear,

So near the polar Zone,

Of Poesy's ray

Feel the mild sway,

With blood congealed to STONE!

Yet while I sit on famed Parnassus' Mount,
Its inspiration I dare not disclaim,
Who oft have bathed in Heliconia's fount,

And vainly hoped to win a poet's name.

But what's the use,

With brain obtuse,

To woo the coy, fastidious NINE ?

As well the rose,

'Mid Arctick snows,

Might hope in Flora's train to shine!

Yet grateful will I prove,

For I have won their love,

And shared their favours, erst, in days, "lang syne;" Then, haply, their control

If I but call their roll

May perpetrate a verse, and call it mine.

URANIA, muse divine! my thoughts inspire,
And lovely CLIO, lend thy wonted fire,
CALLIOPE,

MELPOMENE,

And POLYHYMNIA, join the tuneful choir;-
And TERPSICHORE, gay,

And comick THALIA,

ERATO, priestess at young Cupid's fane,
And sweet EUTERPE, swell the choral strain!

Behold, in lines just nine,

Your novem nomina* shine,—

*Nine names.