Of this we had the fullest proofs When thy sad end to them was known; Wailings were heard beneath their roofs, And other signs of grief were shown.

They'll miss thee much, as Sabbath day Brings fresh thy memory to their mind, And gratefully a tribute pay To thee--in thine thus left behind.

Oh! how can I now further sing?

How tell the horrors of that blow Which caused thy death, when each rude string Of my poor lyre doth tremble so?

Ah, me! that one on mercy bent, Hasting to his sick brother's side, Should be from life thus strangely rent, And have his faith so greatly tried!

Peace! G.o.d All-wise gave this dread shock And took his soul with Him to dwell.

He to the last stood on that Rock Which can withstand the rage of h.e.l.l.

A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF MR. RICHARD FOLDS, WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE APRIL 21, 1859.

"The Righteous are taken away from the evil to come."

This truth may to Christians in darkness be shrouded, While mourning for friends in the grave newly laid, But a time will soon come when the Dayspring unclouded Of doubt, from our souls shall dispel every shade.

These words to his people by G.o.d have been spoken, To light up their pa.s.sage on Life's dreary way, And each day's fresh mercy is from Him a token That he will prove to them a Comfort and Stay.

This friend, who by conduct to us so endearing Has drawn from us sympathy, called forth our love, Is gone--O, the thought is transportingly cheering!

To join the glad throng of Redeemed Ones above.

And we who have witnessed his pure conversation Have listened to Truths which he uttered so well, Rejoice that the theme of Christ's glorious Salvation Was that upon which he delighted to dwell.

His constant infirmities were but refining A soul well endowed by both choice gifts and rare, And he through a long course of years has been shining By light gained from Heaven, which guided him there.

Friends, let these remembrances cheer and delight you, And patiently wait till your own change shall come.

The death of dear Richard should not now affright you, Since he through that portal has pa.s.sed to his home.

TO THE HUMMING BIRD.

1859

Hail to thee, Humming Bird Beauteous and bright, That flitt'st like a spirit Before my rapt sight!

I bid thee a welcome To sip from my flowers The rich, honied produce Of sunshiny hours.

O, be not so easily Moved to depart!

Thy presence is cheering To my saddened heart.

Thine shall be the treasures Of clove-currant trees And bells of the Columbine Prized by the Bees.

My odorous tulips I will with thee share, Nor grudge thee the blossoms Of apple or pear.

The sweet-scented woodbine I shall not withhold, Nor rare perfumed lilies, Like pure burnished gold.

O then, pretty Humming Bird, Stay thou with me, Midst bright blushing roses So charming to see.

I'll hail thee at morning Or woo thee at noon-- Thy presence at all times Regard as a boon.

Then why be so anxious My garden to leave?

Know'st thou that I never Attempt to deceive?

I would not confine thee In cage if I could: I glory in Freedom-- The best earthly good.

Then, Humming Bird, listen My earnest appeal; The love I have for thee I cannot conceal.

My children, too, love thee, My wife does the same, And I am in transports At sound of thy name.

TO THE SAME.

JUNE, 1859.

Whence, and what art thou? O thou beauteous little thing!

That like a dazzling sprite Appearest in my sight, Sipping from sweet flower-cups the honey stores of Spring.

I have sought for many days to find a proper word As a fitter name for thee More pleasing unto me, But cannot find a better than that of Humming Bird.

True, I might thee call A Fluttering Ray of Light Decked in prismatic hues, Which a radiance diffuse Just like a beam of glory straying from a Seraph bright.

Yea, I could picture thee as a new-born infant's soul, Bidding adieu to Earth A moment after birth, But having love for flowers which it scarcely can control.

Or, I might describe thee as a precious, new-coined thought Illumined by the Truth, Always enjoying youth, Till into Wisdom's Temple 'tis by its Builder wrought.

Yet, whatever thou may'st be, or howsoever called, Thou'rt welcome to remain-- My garden sweets to drain, And a lonely _Vision_ be evermore enrolled.

FIRE SONG.

TUNE, "AULD LANG SYNE."

When the wild cry of fire is heard Borne on the midnight air, And those who listen soon are stirred To anxious ask "Where? Where?"

Our Firemen brave, full bent to save, Rush to their engine room; And flushed with hope they grasp each rope, And with the "Rescue" come.

CHO.--Hurrah, then! for the firemen brave!

Who with stout hearts and arms Are bent our lives and goods to save-- Not fearing fire's alarms.

While still the cry is going round, And bells peal forth their notes, The engine comes with rumbling sound, Dragged by our bold "Red Coats."

And there too, rush, as if they'd crush The ground on which they tread, The band of "Hook and Ladder," who look Truly devoid of dread!