Laws, perhaps unknown, but certain,
Kindred spirits may control;

But what hand can lift the curtain,
And reveal the awful soul?

Dimly through life's vapor seeing,
Who but longs for light to break!
O this feverish dream of being!

When, my friend, fhall we awake?

Yes, the hour, the hour is hafting,
Spirit hall with spirit blend;
Fast mortality is wasting,

Then the secret all fhall end.

Let, then, thought hold sweet communion, Let us breathe the mutual prayer,

Till in heaven's eternal union,

O my friend, to meet thee there!

PART II.

Oh! the hour when this material
Shall have vanifhed like a cloud:

When amid the wide ethereal,

All the invifible fhall crowd; And the naked soul, surrounded With innumerous hofts of light, Triumph in the view unbounded, And adore the Infinite.

In that sudden, ftrange tranfition,

By what new and finer sense Shall fhe grasp the mighty vifion, And receive its influence? Angels guard the new immortal Through the wonder-teeming space, To the everlasting portal,

To the spirit's refting place.

Will fhe there no fond emotion,
Nought of early love retain?
Or, absorbed in pure devotion,
Will no mortal trace remain?
Can the grave those ties diffever,
With the very heart-ftrings twined?
Muft fhe part, and part forever,

With the friend fhe leaves behind?

No; the past she ftill remembers;
Faith and hope surviving too,
Ever watch those fleeping embers
Which must rise and live anew;
For the widowed, lonely spirit,
Mourns till fhe be clothed afresh!

Longs perfection to inherit,

And to triumph in the flesh.

Angels, let the ransom'd stranger
In your tender care be bleft,

Hoping, trufting, free from danger,
Till the trumpet end her reft;
Till the trump which fhakes creation,
Through the circling heaven fhall roll,
Till the day of consummation,

Till the bridal of the soul.

Can I trust a fellow-being?
Can I trust an angel's care?
O, thou merciful All-seeing,
Beam around my spirit there!
Jesus, bleffed Mediator,

Thou the airy path haft trod!
Thou, the Judge, the Consummator,
Shepherd of the fold of God!

Bleffed fold! no foe can enter,
And no friend departeth thence:
Jesus is their sun, their centre,
And their fhield Omnipotence:

Bleffed for the Lamb fhall feed them,
All their tears fhall wipe away;
To the living fountains lead them,
Till fruition's perfect day.

Lo! it comes, that day of wonder,
Louder chorals fhake the fkies;
Hades' gates are burft asunder,
See the new-clothed myriads rise!

Thought, reprefs thy weak endeavor,
Here must reason proftrate fall:

O the ineffable For-Ever!

And the Eternal All in All!

Conder.

THE

HEAVEN.

HE golden palace of my God Towering above the clouds I see; Beyond the cherub's bright abode, Higher than angels' thoughts can be. How can I in those courts appear Without a wedding-garment on? Conduct me, thou Life-giver, there, Conduct me to thy glorious throne! And clothe me with thy robes of light, And lead me through fin's darksome night, My Saviour and my God. Ruffian Poetry.

THE VALEDICTION.

HEN the death-dews dim my eyes,

Wand my bosom panting lies,

Ebbing life's receding fighs,

Shorter, fainter, growing;

Ere my spirit breaks her way,
Through her prison-walls of clay,
Into realms of endless day-

The land to which I'm going

May the dear familiar band

Of weeping friends that round me stand,
Watching the decreasing sand,

Faft and fafter flowing,

Chant some low ftrain, blending well
With the solemn paffing bell,

Of the holy home to tell

The land to which I'm going.

Let them fing, "Dear suffering one,
Soon thy journey will be done,

Thy fight be fought, thy race be run:
Thy soul, with rapture glowing,

The everlasting hills fhall see,

Where pain no more can come to thee,