_Fading Away._

From morn to night, thine eye, my dying-boy Is on those autumn leaves that ever wave, A sea of leaves on that great forest oak; Each wave of that wide sea a wave of fire.

Ah! boy! before those tinted leaves are sear, And fallen with light crush upon the earth, Thou wilt be gone. Oh! glorious canopy Around thy dying bed! All nature seems To yield a triumph conqueror ne'er received, When all the world knew that he entered Rome, To the Redeemer's little one who waits Just at the gate of life.

Blest is that tree That lulls thy quiet. 'Tis one beauteous flame Less glorious only than the burning bush, When God was present in the wilderness. Is He less present to thy spirit now?

Soon, soon a change will come, and thou wilt see The angels round thee. They will glow in light From the Redeemer's presence. Then how dim All earth's great transport round us in this scene! Why hast thou lived, my boy? Thy little life Has all been sorrow: all but some few smiles To thy dear mother, and to me, to him Thy brother here unconscious of his loss, And to thy faithful nurse who never knew Her care was trouble, sorrowing but for thee.

But thou hast lived because thou art redeemed: Because a life was here begun for heaven. Thou livest to say, love not this passing world. 'Tis not our home, or surely such as thou Would be exempt from sorrow. All is well. Yea, blessed is the family where death Enters to take an infant. Without fear All look unto the world where it has rest. No gentler sorrow falls on all than this. No gentler sorrow nurtures mutual love.

O easy faith to know that it is gone By the bright pathway to eternal realms Which He first opened, when he left the cross, The earth he blessed, and so ascended there, Where with Him all the blessed at death have rest!

THE END.