THE BROTHERS,

Both gone. Both smitten in their manly prime,

Yet the fair transcript of their virtues here,

And treasured memories of their boyhood's time

Allay the anguish of affection's tear.

One hath his rest amid the sacred shade

Whose turf reveals the mourner's frequent tread,

And one beneath the unfathomed deep is laid

To slumber till the sea restores her dead.

The childless parents weep their broken trust,

Hope's fountain failing at its cherish'd springs,

And widow'd sorrow shrouds herself in dust,

While one lone flowret to her bosom clings.

Yet no blind chance this saddening change hath wrought,

No dark misrule this mortal life attends,

A Heavenly Father's never-erring thought

Commingles with the discipline He sends.

Not for His reasons let us dare to ask,

His secret counsels not aspire to read,

But faithful bow to each allotted task

And make His will our solace and our creed.