thened shades are meeting,
To itself the heart shall answer, "He shall come to me no more:
I shall never hear his footsteps nor the child's sweet voice entreating
For admission at my door."

But upon _your_ fair, fair forehead, no regrets nor griefs are dwelling,
Neither sorrow nor disquiet do the peaceful features know;
Nor that look, whose wistful beauty seemed their sad hearts to be telling,
"Daylight breaketh, let me go!"

Daylight breaketh, little Henry; in its beams your soul awaketh--
What though night should close around us, dim and dreary to the view--
Though _our_ souls should walk in darkness, far away that morning breaketh
Into endless day for you!

SAMUEL,

AGED NINE YEARS.

They have left you, little Henry, but they have not left you lonely--
Brothers' hearts so knit together could not, might not separate dwell.
Fain to seek you in the mansions far away--One lingered only
To bid those behind farewell!

Gentle Boy!--His childlike nature in most guileless form was moulded,
And it may be that his spirit woke in glory unaware,
Since so calmly he resigned it, with his hands still meekly folded,
Having said his evening prayer.

Or--if conscious of that summons--"Speak, O Lord, Thy servant heareth"--
As one said, whose name they gave him, might his willing answer be,
"Here am I"--like him replying--"At Thy gates my soul appeareth,
For behold Thou calledst me!"

A deep silence--utter silence, on his earthly home descendeth:--
Reading, playing, sleeping, waking--he is gone, and few remain!
"O the loss!"--they utter, weeping--every voice its echo lendeth--
"O the loss!"--But, O the gain!

On that tranquil shore his spirit was vouchsafed an early landing,
Lest the toils of crime should stain it, or the thrall of guilt control--
Lest that "wickedness should alter the yet simple understanding,
Or deceit beguile his soul!"

"Lay not up on earth thy treasure"--they have read that sentence duly,
Moth and rust shall fret thy riches--earthly good hath swift decay--
"Even so," each heart replieth--"As for me, my riches truly
Make them wings and flee away!"

"O my riches!--O my children!--dearest part of life and being,
Treasures looked to for the solace of this life's declining years,--
Were our voices cold to hearing--or our faces cold to seeing,
That ye left us to our tears?"

"We inherit conscious silence, ceasing of some merry laughter,