The veil has dropped. Her inward eye Has seen the mysteries of God; 'Mid heaven's bright glory she has trod. Angels, around, their joyous notes prolong, While her sweet voice unites in their triumphant song! THE DEPARTED. "Compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses." Νέφος μαρτύρων. GENIUS for us has wrought, Martyrs have bravely died midst flood and fire, And patriots gladly sought Within our souls fresh valor to inspire! Their voice is on the air; They speak in every breeze, where'er we roam; They bid us guard with care The virtues of our country and our home. Their influence fills the Past With noble thoughts and generous deeds sublime, From sire to son, throughout all coming time. The present hour is theirs ; Of half our good are they the Primal Cause ; The Nations have their dead, Brave souls, that like the stars of light do shine; Benighted millions on to life divine. And saintly forms above, Gentle and fair, may hover o'er the earth, And bend in holy love O'er each sad heart that mourns departed worth. O, might some heavenly hand Draw back the shadowy curtains of the sky, Of bright angelic souls could meet the eye! But they are with us still In thought and deed. Yes, they are with us here, To soothe each grief, and calm each idle fear. At the soft sunset hour, When evening's splendors melt along the sky, To kindle faith and raise the heart on high. The mystery of life! O who can sound its depths? Its bliss? its woe? Their meaning all,-not men nor angels know! We are fast hastening on: Soon must the path of death by us be trod: May we be with Heaven's host, and with our God! Our faith, our works of love, Our charity within the haunts of woe, When we shall soar above, The influence of these must live below. The memory of the just Shall still be dear, whate'er their earthly lot: But Virtue lives, and cannot be forgot. MRS. ANNA C. L. WATERSTON, the wife of Rev. Robert C. Waterston, is the youngest daughter of the late Hon. Josiah Quincy, of Boston, and grand-daughter of Josiah Quincy, Jr., of Revolutionary memory. She was married in 1840. Some of her verses were printed in 1863, in a small volume, from which we take two pieces, adding two others which were written shortly afterward. In explanation of the first lines which we copy, it may be said that they refer to the young and beautiful daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Waterston, who, after having with her parents passed two years in Europe, and, just as they were all about to return home, died at Naples, July 25, 1858. She was born on the 6th day of January, the date being that of the Epiphany. Edmund Quincy, in his "Life of Josiah Quincy," thus writes of his venerated father in connection with the afflicting event of her death: "While his latter days went down blest with all that should accompany good old age, he was not exempted from the bereavements and sorrows which are also its inevitable attendants. In the midsummer of 1858, his grand-daughter, Helen Ruthven Waterston, the only surviving child of his daughter Anna, died at Naples, Italy, at the age of seventeen years. I need not describe the grief which the untimely blighting of this fair blossom brought to him and to us all." Of this dear child the poet Bryant thus wrote in his "Letters from Spain: " "I confess I felt a degree of pride in so magnificent a specimen of my countrywomen as this young lady presented, uncommonly beautiful in person, with a dignity of presence and manner much beyond her years, and a sweetness no less remarkable than the dignity." And the poet Whittier has made her the motive of one of the most exquisite of his recent lesser poems, which he entitles "Naples, 1860." THE EPIPHANY. "And the star stood over where the young child lay." Jan. 6, 1841 (the birthday of H. R. W.). IN life's horizon rose a star Upon that sacred night: The light it brought from worlds afar Blest seventeen years of sight. It shone upon a Northern home, Glanced on the ocean's stormy foam, And gladdened English air. O'er Alpine mountain-tops it glowed; And, with a gentle ray, Where Rhine and Neckar calmly flowed, It passed o'er far Italian lands, The steep Etruscan towns are seamed Light on old storied Rome it shed But where the tideless sea of blue Reflects a burning height, God took that star of heavenly hue, Since then, the sun and moon have shone, But life's horizon widens round, And, when I pass their circle's bound, I shall behold my star. ON AN ENGRAVING OF THE CRUCIFIXION BY HENRY GOLTZIUS, 1583. WORK of a hand whose graver cut Deep in the steel the vision given Unto unsealed eyes of Faith, When ancient Art drew nigh to heaven ! Dark roll the awful clouds above The city of the faithless crowd, While on the rude and bark-stript tree The thorn-crowned head is meekly bowed; And, gazing on the Sufferer there, Three friends are watching through the night: Yet falter not;— they know the sign That makes death, life; and darkness, light. Between me and that scene is thrown I know the sign, and fain would cling Upon the blood-stained, bark-stript tree. TOGETHER. A tribute to Colonel Robert G. Shaw, who fell, July 18, 1863, at Fort Wagner, at the head of his brave colored men of the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Regiment. FAIR-HAIRED Northern hero, Up from the field of battle Sweep downward, holy angels, The Master, who remembers The cross, the thorns, the spear, As their ransomed souls appear. And thou, young, generous spirit, INSTALLATION HYMN. Written for the installation of Rev. Alfred P. Putnam as pastor of the Church of the Saviour, Brooklyn, N.Y., Sept. 28, 1864. O Sabbath hush, to-day, has led Νο Our thoughts towards this house of prayer, But surging sounds of toil and strife Were vibrant on the autumn air. |