Of woman's tenderness. With flowery links
Of soft persuasion, draw the erring soul
Back from that beetling precipice, where foams
The fiery flood of ruin. Toil to uproot
Those weeds of Vice, that by the wayside spring,
Or in the garden, 'mid its choicest flowers,
Unblushingly intrude. Serenely show
In thine own saintly life, the blessedness
Of that meek mind, which Temperance and Peace
Fair-handed sisters, guide in duty's path,
And crown with beauty, that survives the tomb.
DEATH OF AN AGED MAN.
Rise, weary spirit, to a realm of rest!
Sorrow hath had her will of thee, and Pain,
With a destroyer's fury prob'd thy breast,
But thou, the victory through Christ didst gain;
Rise, freed from stain.
Years wrote their history on thy furrow'd brow
In withering lines; and Time like ocean's foam
Swept o'er the shores of hope, till thou didst know
Earth's emptiness. But now no more to roam
Pass to thy home.
Blest filial Love rescu'd its freshest wreath
Of changeless green and blooming buds for thee,
And o'er thy bosom threw its grateful breath,
When the waste world, but weeds of misery
Spread for thine eye.
