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And back she comes from Heaven's gate,
And brings that dove so mild,

From the Father in Heaven who hears her speak,

A blessing for every child.

Then, children, lift up a pious prayer ;

It hears whatever you say,

That heavenly dove so white and fair,

That sits on the lily spray.

F. BREMER.

THE ROSE.

THE Rose is sweet, but it is surrounded with Thorns.

The Lily of the Valley is fragrant, but it springeth up amongst the Brambles,

The Spring is pleasant, but it is soon past. The Summer is bright, but the Winter destroyeth the beauty thereof.

The Rainbow is very glorious, but it soon. vanisheth away.

Life is good, but it is quickly swallowed up in
Death.

There is a land where the Roses are without

thorns, where the Flowers are not mixed with brambles ;

In that land there is eternal Spring, and Light without any Cloud ;

The Tree of Life groweth in the midst thereof, Rivers of pleasure are there, and Flowers that never fade ;

Myriads of happy spirits are there, and surround the throne of God with a perpetual Hymn. The Angels with their golden harps sing praises continually; and the cherubim fly on wings of fire.

This country is Heaven, it is the country of those that are good, and nothing that is wicked must inhabit there.

The toad must not spit its venom among turtle doves, nor the poisonous henbane grow among sweet flowers;

Neither must any one that doeth ill enter into that good land.

This earth is pleasant, for it is God's earth, and it is filled with many delightful things; But that country is far better; there we shall

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not grieve any, nor be sick any more, nor do wrong any more; there the cold of winter shall not wither us, nor the heats of summer scorch us;

In that country there are no wars nor quarrels,

but all love one another with dear love. When our parents and friends die, and are

laid in the cold ground, we see them here no more; but there we shall embrace them again, and live with them, and be separated

no more:

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There we shall meet all the good whom we read of in holy books :There we shall see Abraham, the called of God, the father of the faithful, and Moses, after his long wanderings in the Arabian desert, and Elijah, the prophet of God, and Daniel, who escaped the lion's den; and there the son of Jesse, the shepherd king, the sweet singer of Israel.

They loved God on earth, they praised him

on earth; but in that country they will praise him better, and love him more.

There we shall see Jesus, who is gone before

us to that happy place; and there we shall behold the glory of the high God.

We cannot see him here, but we will love him here; we must be now on earth, but we will often think on heaven.

That happy land is our home, we are to be here but for a little while, and there for ever, even for ages of eternal years.

BARBAULD'S PROSE HYMNS.

CASSABIANCA.

THE boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck,
Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;

A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childish form.

The flames rolled on-he would not go,

Without his father's word;

That father, faint in death below,

His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud, "Say, father, say,
If yet my task is done;"

He knew not that the chieftain lay,
Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father," once again he cried,

"If I may yet be gone;

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And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair ;

And looked from that lone post of death,

In still yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud,

"My father must I stay?"

While o'er him fast through sail and shroud

The wreathing fire made way.

They wrapp'd the ship in splendour wild,

They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,

Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound,

The boy-oh! where was he?

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