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Verses. 77
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Untitled Article
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Untitled Article
worship : and if the voices should be drowned in the grander music of the elements , many there will retire where they can be alone , as I am , with God and the teachers he sends to human hearts . This impulse , if cherished , may lead to knowledge of which men yet dream not ; may stimulate to vigour , of which none , but the supremely favoured , have been yet conscious . Hail , then , thou voice of wisdom , shouting from the deep and echoing from the shore ! Rouse in me all the power that the world hath laid asleep ! Revive in me that which I have already learned , and teach me more ! While I am silent amidst this mighty chorus , breasting the storm as the steadfast rocks , speak , and I will hear !
Untitled Article
Ye have gathered around the same kind , friendly hearth , Ye have answered the sounds of each other ' s glad mirth , Ye have cradled and pillowed your heads on one breast , The same gentle music hath lulled you to rest , The same mother blest you ; ye woke to rejoice In the same kindly tones of that mother ' s soft voice .
And years have rolled on—some have left their pure home Whose memory clings round them wherever they roam—Oh ! thus like a spirit , fond dreams of the past , Will haunt us , and float o'er us e'en to the last . Sad thoughts of the loved ones of life ' s early days , A flower-scent , a voice , or an echo may raise .
Once more ye have met—but ye met not in gladness—Ye all met save one ; oh ! that meeting was sadness ! She who nursed you—who loved you—who soothed you in sorrow , Lies calm in that slumber that knoweth no morrow ; — Ye have heard the last blessing a mother may speak—Ye stand in a silence her voice may not break .
Long , long may ye tread in the world ' s giddy round , Bright hopes , and new joys , and fair prospects abound ; But ' midst all the treasures the cold earth can pour , Ye shall pine for the love that can meet you no more . The wreathed ocean-shell for the sea makes its moan , Even so shall ye yearn for that mother ' s kind tone .
But he who hath gone to the bright " father-land , " The loved one , the lost one , the pride of the band ; Oh ! speak not his name with a sorrowing voice , He hath passed to his God , and ' tis yours to rejoice . To the portals of heaven his spirit will come , To meet his blest mother , and welcome her Home . ELLEN LEGH . Kenilworthy November 12 .
Verses. 77
Verses . 77
Untitled Article
VERSES .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Feb. 2, 1831, page 77, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2594/page/5/
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