SONNET.

DAVID BRAINARD AYDELOTT.

SHORT, passing pilgrimage was thine, dear boy, Through the lone wilderness of this rude world; Brief space alike, for thee the founts of joy

Were ope'd-at thee the darts of sorrow hurled; Few years for thee, Spring's bubbling brooklets purled

Shone Summer's sun-the teeming Autumn's prime, Ere thy young spirit's pinions were unfurled

In glorious flight for that eternal clime,

Where come nor heat, nor cold, nor change, nor time!
Where the redeemed, with ever new delight

The praises of their God and Saviour hymn,
Himself their sun by day, their moon by night!
Such now thy task-our thanks for thee we give
Who thus, in dying, but begin'st to live!

THOU ART GONE.

THOU art gone!-to thy last long rest,
To that quiet and peaceful home,
In the high abode of the holy bless'd,
Where sorrow may never come!
Where sighing and tears are done—
Where labour and toil are o'er-
Where sickness and pain and ills are none,
And where Death itself is no more!

Thou art gone!-from a world of sin,
Of sorrow, of care and wo,

To a realm where sin may not enter in,
And where sorrow they never know!
From a clime where, by cold and heat,
Our spirits are ever tried,

To that perfect world where the just shall meet,
From earth's dross all purified!

Thou art gone!—and our tears must flow, That we thus are called to part;

And though our loss is thy gain, we know, Yet the drops of grief will start!

But we give thee to God, in trust

That our hope is not in vain

When the final trump shall awake the dust, In Heaven to meet thee again!

THE LAND BEYOND THE SKY.

WHEN Grief's dark clouds o'ershade us,
And turn our day to night—
Dim skies, that Hope portrayed us,

As ever fair and bright;

When here the tempest lowers,

And fly the friends we love

From earth, to fairer bowers
Of yon bright world above;
When pleasures fled entreat us
Seek those that will not fly;
When disappointments meet us;
How sweet to lift the eye,
Where Faith presents, to greet us,
The land beyond the sky!

When those we trust deceive us,
And turn our trust to shame;
When friends, beloved once, leave us
To mourn th' inconstant flame;

"

When Fortune's frowns, which make us

No more their light desire,
Bid summer-flies forsake us,

Like frost before the fire;
When wealth and splendour garish
No real joys supply;

From earthly hopes that perish,

Our spirits long to fly,

Where holier trusts we cherish-
The land beyond the sky!

And oh! when here o'ershades us
The dark destroyer's wing;
When anguish fell, invades us,
With keenest, sharpest sting;
When dearest ones have left us,
To seek the grassy shade-
By Death's cold hand bereft us,
In the lone churchyard laid;
When sweetest ties are riven-
We check the murmuring sigh;
The lost will back be given,

Where they no more can die ;-
The parted meet-in HEAVEN,
The land beyond the sky!