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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
Such was thy course serene , " O Man of God ! ' No passiori-stotm o ' ercast thy peaceful mind ; 'Twas breath celestial fann'd the sacred sod , Whence rose the flower , to bloom in heaven design'd . That heaven 'twas thine to paint ;—' twas in thy breast : The life that leads to heaven , thyself didst lead ;—So gently lead , 'twas all but heaven's own rest ; All but heaven ' s spirit , in each virtuous deed . The ~ scarce felt motion of a dying breeze , The scarce seen ripple of a dying wave , —
These are the emblems musing Fancy sees , When youth thus gently passes to the grave . As colour'd crystal , sun-lit , spreads its hue On cluster'd flowers , while each retains its own , So , on thy soul while heaven its radiance threw , Each virtue in its varied beauty shone .
The words of wisdom from the lips of youth , 'Twas thine to speak in all their soothing power ; On God's own word to found religious truth , And teach its comfort in life ' s final hour . That dark , mysterious hour 'twas thine to meet ,
When earthly bliss was in its noontide glow ; When toil is pleasure , and when pain is sweet , EnduT'd for those most deeply lov'd below . Tho' soon remov'd , thou hast not liv'd in vain ; Thy hours , tho' few , were bright ;—a spring-tide day , Not darken'd o ' er by sorrow , or by pain , With scarce a shower-drop , ere it pass'd away . Thy lot it was to fill an early grave ; Thine and thy flock ' s best hopes and aims to leave : How wept by those th y tears were shed to save ! How many doth thy God , thro' thee , bereave !
How sweetly did thy melancholy voice , ( To music's ear " prophetic of its end , " ) Call on the Christian mourner to rejoice That clouds , when breaking , ever heaven-ward tend ! As went thy tranquil life , so came thy death : Silent the waveless stream to ocean pass'd . Smiling , He took , who gave thy vital breath , And bade thy first death-conflict be thy last .
Thy Saviour ' s faint , yet faithful image thou ! Thy modest claims his tongue one day shall tell ; For what his was , thy heaven-train'd soul is now ; And where he is , thou shalt for ever dwell . W . L . Liverpool , February 11 .
Untitled Article
234 A Tribute to the Memory of the late Rev . John Hlnchs .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), April 2, 1831, page 234, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2596/page/18/
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