e voice of "many waters"
Is murmuring on my ear,
And mingling in the mystic strains
A mother's voice I hear.
Two white rob'd cherub sisters
Stand harping by her side;
A brother in the concert joins,
Who erst in Jesus died.

And other sainted spirits,
Who've pass'd from earth away,--
Stand wooing me to join their bands
In realms of endless day.
The flow'rs are blooming brightly,
The tree of life is seen;
And so inviting stand the fields,
"Array'd in living green."

The Saviour sheds his presence,
In radiance round the place:
And joy and adoration
Beams bright on ev'ry face.
Loud swells the pealing anthem,
Through the high dome of heav'n,
"Worthy the Lamb, who once was slain,"
And hath our sins forgiv'n.

As thus I gaze enraptur'd,
And drink heav'n's spirit in
Earth's costliest tow'rs and palaces
Look faded, worn and dim;
And death's cold stream that murmurs
So hoarsely on my ear;
If Jesus were my pilot
I'd cross without a fear.

But oh! the tide is turning,
Health flows through ev'ry vein:
And I a little longer
On time's dark shore remain.
But thou, celestial city!
I'd keep thee still in view,
And gladly would the summons heed
That wafts my soul to you.

To a Friend

Sweet comes the gentle breath of spring,
Sighing soft among the flow'rs,
Or sporting high on airy wings,
Fanning the leaves upon the bow'rs.

The golden sun looks gladly down
Upon the vari'gated earth;
Encouraged by his genial rays,
Her garner'd treasures have their birth.

But though the face of earth is fair,
Chance and change are busy here;
And her rugg'd, chequer'd path,
Is water'd oft by sorrow's tear.

Her bosom holds our treasured dead,
The lov'd who in our pathway trod:
Whose place is found on earth no more,
But the freed spirit's soar'd to God.

When ling'ring in the place of graves,
Came there no voice from out the tomb,
Whisp'ring to thy spirit's ear,
"Mother, when will the morning come?"

"O mother, yes, it soon will come,
The glorious resurrection morn,
When Christ shall wake the sleeping dead,
And an immortal day shall dawn."

And though your path may lead you forth
From early friends far, far away;
Far from your darling children's graves,
Jacob's God shall be your stay.

Your chasten'd soul from sorrow's cup,
Has often drank