“He whom the wretched and the poor knew best,

Whom, when the ear his footstep heard, it blest;

To whom the eye, with age or sorrow dim,

Gave witness, and whose works shall follow him:

Who silently his Saviour's steps pursued;

Whose creed was love, whose life was gratitude.”

JOSIAH CONDER.

Belov’d, rever’d, and mourn’d,— Farewell!

Though lost to every human eye,

Thy memory in our hearts shall dwell,

’Till we, like thee, in earth shall lie:

Thy name, now utter’d with a sigh,

As we thy recent loss deplore,

Hereafter shall a theme supply

For fondest thoughts to linger o’er.

Though well we knew thy zenith past,

And westward saw thy sun decline;—

So brightly, warmly—to the last

That orb in glory seem’d to shine;

We can but mournfully resign

A splendour which had known no chill,

Though, with a lustre more benign,

In brighter skies ‘tis glowing still.

There are who in advancing years

Yet more and more our love engage,

In whom the worth that most endears

Seems mellow’d, not impair’d, by age;

Who blend the wisdom of the Sage

With Childhood's tenderness and truth,

And bear about to life's last stage

The earlier greenness of its youth.

From such, although their locks be grey,

Oh! who can feel prepared to part?

For them affection would delay

By each procrastinating art

Life's certain close;— and tears will start

When Death has snapt the vital chain

And sighs uncheck’d will rend the heart,

Though sighs and tears alike are vain.

Thus have we mourn’d, thus mourn we yet;—

And cold indeed that heart must be

Which owns no pensive, fond regret,

When Death removes a friend like thee:

Oh! Spring may hang on many a tree

Green leaves by after Winter reft,

Ere we can hope on earth to see

Fill’d up the void which thou hast left.

How deeply will thy loss be known

In many a low and wretched cot,

Where oft thy kindness has been shown

To cheer the inmates’ joyless lot!

From many a sweet, secluded spot