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Heaven—0! there's something in the very sound,
That breathes a life-draught to the fainting soul, And kindles joy, where naught before was found
Save clouds of darkness in full many a fold!
Our gaze it fixes on the shining goal, The end of all our hopes and our desires,
And bids the ransomed spirit oft behold The shining gates, and the celestial choirs, And fits the hand to tune our ringing, glowing lyres.
Heaven-—0 ! its portals in the sunlight gleam
Of an unclouded and eternal sky! When shall we wake from life's bewildering dream,
And cease at once to suffer and to sigh ?
Wake, where the friends we love shall never die, Beyond this stormy world's chill, wailing blast,
Among the ransomed and the blest on high; Where, when the waves of death are safely past, Heaven, Home, and Mother may be gained at last.
PASSING AWAY. On the vernal flower that gleams In the sun's rich, mellow beams, With the dew-drop on its breast, Is this sad'ning truth imprest,
i Passing away.
Qn the glowing forest leaf, Stamped with freshness strangely brief,