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I know his spirit feels no more this weary load of flesh,
fresh. I know the angels fold him close beneath their glittering wings, And soothe him with a song that breathes of Heaven's divinest
things. I know at we shall meet our babe (his mother dear and I), Where God for aye shall wipe away all tears from every eye. Wbate'er befalls his brethren twain, his bliss can never cease, Their lot may here be grief and fear, but his is certain peace. When we think of what our darling is, and what we still
must be: When we muse on that world's perfect bliss, and this world's
misery : When we groan beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief Oh! we'd rather lose our other two, than bave him here again.
Rev. John Moultrie, Herne Bay.
THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON. “The following,” says the Courier Francais, “is a statement of the progress of the Emperor Napoleon's military and civil rank :-He was born on the 15th of August, 1769; Major of Artillery at the siege of Toulon in 1793, at 24 years of age; Commander of the Artillery in Italy in 1794, at 25; Generalin-Chief of the army in Italy, 1797, at 28 ; General-in-Chief of the expedition to Egypt in 1798, at 29; First Consul in 1799, at 30; Consul for life after the battle of Marengo, in 1800, at 31; Emperor of the French in 1804, at 35 ; abdicated after Waterloo, 18th of June, 1815, at 46 ; died in exile at St. Helena, the 5th of May, 1821, at 52 years of age.”
THE OLD OAK TREE.
That old familiar tree,
THE PROPHECY OF THE TWELVE TRIBES.
The patriarch sat upon his bed,
Decay shall follow thee and thine,
“Simeon and Levi, sons of blood
Israel. “ Judah, all hail! thou priest, thou king, The crown, the glory shall be thine, Thine in the fight the eagle's wing, Thine on the hill the corn and wine. Thou lion; nations shall turn pale When swells thy roar upon the gale.
Judah, my son, ascend the throne, Till comes from Heaven the unborn King, The prophesied, the mighty one, Whose heel shall bruise the serpent's sting, Till sin is dead and Death is slain, And earth is Paradise again.
“Wide as the surges, Zebulun,
“ Lord Naphtali, thy snow-white hind
Joseph, come near, my son, my son! Egyptian prince, Egyptian sageChild of my first and best lov'd oneGreat guardian of thy father's age, Bring Ephraim and Manasseh nigh, And let me bless them ere I die. “ Hear me, thou God of Israel, Thou who hast been his living shield In the dark forest's desert dell, In Egypt's famine-stricken field, On the dark dungeon's chilling stone, In Pharaoh's chain, by Pharaoh's throne.
“My son, all blessings be on thee;
Then ceas’d the voice, and all was still ;
Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young,
Who lov'd thee so fondly as he ?
And join'd in thy innocent glee.
His locks intermingled with grey ;
Thy father is passing away.
May traces of sorrow be seen.
now, For loving and kind hath she been. Remember thy mother-for thee will she pray
As long as God giveth her breath; With accents of kindness, then, cheer her lone way,
E'en to the dark valley of death.
If the smile of thy love be withdrawn;
If the dew of affection be gone.
The love of a brother shall be
Than pearls from the depth of the sea.
The depths of true sisterly love;
The surface that sparkles above.
And blessings thy pathway to crown; Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers
More precious than wealth or renown.
THE THREE VOICES. THE glass was at my lip
Clear, sparkling spirit 'twas I was about to sip,
When a voice came from the glass :