The last dear look is given

The last faint sigh is breathed;
Yet the bereaved one bending o'er,

Is gazing still intently as before,
Upon that precious clay,

Where lingers yet a spirit ray,

As if the witness of a pardon sealed, And visions of celestial joy, to faithful souls revealed.

Now, mourner, turn!

Ambassador of heaven, thy way pursue

The crown in view!

Thou dost all thy love entomb

Within yon sacred urn,

But thou hast kindled there a flame
With zeal intense to burn,

Until thy Master's honoured name
The distant isles and deserts shall illume.

Yes! onward go!

Thy God is with thee ever!
The dearest tie He did but sever,
That gifts divine

Might be in larger measure thine;
That higher good He might bestow,
And bid thy soul expand

With the bright vision of a better land, Where with thy rescued train thou shalt At length repair,

And thy beloved shall the triumph share!

THE VALLEY OF DRY BONES.

(EZEKIEL XXXVII.)

BY THE AUTHOR OF VISIONS OF SOLITUDE," ETC.

LONELY and drear that valley lay,

Where bones of dead men strewed the ground,— Bleached like those rifted rocks of grey,

That reared their spectre forms around. No blade of grass,—no wild-flower fair, No insect flitting through the air,

Amid that depth profound,

E'er met the eye-nor breeze's breath
Sighed o'er the deep repose of death.

Alone one living form was seen,
Like last survivor of his race,
Beneath the pallid moon-beam's sheen,
Slowly to seek that silent place.
And there, with visage pale, he stood,
In musings of prophetic mood,-
Upturned to heaven his face;

While thoughts, by language unexprest,
Chilled the warm life-blood of his breast,

And to his inward soul there spake,

A voice unheard by human ear,—

O son of man, can these awake,

These bones so scattered, old, and sere

But say
the word, by His command
Who made the ocean and the land;
And they-e'en they shall hear;
And flesh and sinews shall o'erspread
These mouldering relics of the dead.

Anon the wondrous word he spoke,

That trembling seen, and heard with awe, The fearful midnight silence woke, As, subject to the law

Of their Creator-instant shook

Those withered bones before his look,-
Closer compelled to draw

Each to his fellow;-while the sound
Sent faint, mysterious echoes round.

And now more awful seems that glen,

With breathless corses scattered wideThe lifeless frames of stalwarth men, Reposing in funereal pride. Again the prophet lifts his voice, And loud the echoes now rejoice, As marshalled side by side, And, called to being, up they stand, A living, moving, breathing band.

And shall not thus thy chosen race,
Though far dispersed, and dead in sin,
Feel the strong influence of thy grace,
O Lord! and thus, at length, begin
To wake to live-united by
A power descending from on high?
And feel their souls within,

Thy Spirit's quick and potent fire
Each stony heart.once more inspire?

And thus, yea thus, when time is past,

And when, resounding through the tomb, Shall ring the mighty trumpet's blast,

Which calls the nations to their doom; The trembling graves,-the floods profound, Obedient to that piercing sound,

Shall, from their depths of gloom, Give up the slumbering dead-to hear The judgment-words of joy or fear.

Then shall the mighty of the earth,
The myriads by the mighty slain
The babe that perished in its birth,

The sage-his wisdom now in vain-
Alike surround the dazzling throne,
Where every secret thought is known,
To know their loss or gain;

The courts of heaven to tread, or swell
The legions of thy gulf, O hell!

THOUGHTS ON THE SEA.

I GAZED on Ocean-it was bright and bold,
The morning breeze was busy with its waves,
Which leapt rejoicing. The encircling sky
Tinting the waters with its cloudless blue
Arched the expanse-in air and on the sea
No living creature moved, nor other sound,
Save of the agitated waves, was heard.

The breeze is still, the waves are still; Motion and sound have ceased; the calm is great As once, when He, whom winds and waves obey, Looked on the waters in this angry mood,

And bade them "peace, be still." So smooth the sea,

An insect's wing might leave a ripple there;

And the broad sun, now mounted high in heaven
Views his own image in the glassy wave
Round and unbroken. Oh! 'tis beautiful!
That quiet ocean, with its thousand hues
Of blue and silver, and that boundless sky
Filled with the light and glory of the sun,
Like God inhabiting Eternity!

How beautiful! if in this lower world

Aught may depict the Majesty on high,
Essential Oneness filling all in all,

Eternity, immensity, and love

Eternal and immense, 'tis imaged here;

This sun, this ocean, and this air have caught

The stamp and character of Deity.

The sun reflects his glory :—like the deep
His wisdom-like the expanded firmament

His love, embracing and sustaining all.