IN MEMORIAM.

Not in the pulpit where he joy'd to bear

The message of salvation, not beside

His study-lamp, nor in the fireside chair,

Encircled by those dearest ones who found

In him their life of life, nor in the homes

Of his beloved flock, sharing with them

All sympathies of sorrow or of joy,

Is seen the faithful Shepherd.

He hath gone

To yon blest Country where he long'd to be,

To stand before the Great White Throne, and join

That hymn of praise for which his course below

Gave preparation.

At one post he stood

From youth till fourscore years, averse to change

Though oft-times tempted. For he did not deem

Restless ambition or desire of gold

Fit counterpoise for that most sacred love

Born in the inner chambers of the soul,

And intertwining with a golden mesh

Pastor and people.

Like some lofty tree

Whose untransplanted roots in freshness meet

The living waters, and whose leaf is green

‘ Mid winter's gather'd frost, serene he stood,

More fondly honor'd for each added year,

While‘ neath his shadow drew with reverent love

Successive generations.

Hoary Time

Linger'd with blessings for his latest day,

And now‘ neath turf embalm'd with tears he sleeps,

Waiting the resurrection of the just.