I saw them wreath his temples o'er And mark'd his hands were stain'd with gore, Yet mortals magnified his name, And placed him high on lists of fame. Shorn of his honours, 'neath the pall And wither'd in their freshness, all His spirit, stain'd with human blood, I heard a dying Christian speak "Where is thy crown?" with eager tongue And on his trembling accents hung, "In heaven," he, pointing upward, cried; 'Twas then I saw how pleasures waste, That he is rich who here hath placed He only rich, to whom given His coronation none shall see, Save those around the throne, Whence pain and grief for ever flee,- Where change comes not, nor fortune frowns; THE DEPARTED. From "Household Verses, by Bernard Barton." MUCH as we prize the active worth A charm, more hallow'd and profound, The memory of the dead. They form the living links-which bind Of being-pangless, pure, refined, By them; through holy hope and love, The dead are like the stars by day, In this brief world of chance and change, For death its sacred seal hath set Ours, by the pledge of love, and faith, And hope of heaven on high; A trust triumphant over death H. T. & J. Roche, Printers, 25, Hoxton-square, London. BEFORE Some great personages, on their coronation or inauguration into offices of splendour and dignity, a form is sometimes observed, the design of which is to prevent them from being puffed up and intoxicated by pride, by reminding them of the fleeting character of all these earthly honours; for "the fashion of the world passeth away." A wisp of straw is brought, and fire applied to it. During its rapid combustion, a person, appointed for the purpose, proclaims, "Sic transit gloria mundi," "Thus does the glory of the world pass on; Bright is the blaze, but in a moment gone!" Earthly ambition has often sought the perpetuation of a name by the erection of magnificent buildings,—burial-places, it may be, or temples to the honour of fabled deities; that thus may be commemorated the piety (so sadly mistaken) of those who have in this way employed their wealth. But where are they? Many have passed away altogether, and only exist in the records of the past. Many remain, like the Pyramids of Egypt, commemorating, however, nothing but the vast power which their erection demanded, and almost defying conjecture as to their authors, or their intended uses. Some are found in ruins, suggesting only to the gifted architect, who understands the principles and rules of their construction, some idea of what they were in their pristine glory. Like VOL. XI. Second Series. Ꮓ |