ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

SHE passeth hence,—a friend from loving friends,
A mother from her children. Time hath shed

No frost upon her, and the tree of life

Glows in the freshness of its summer prime.

Yet still she passeth hence. Her work on earth

Soon done and well. Hers was the unwavering mind,

The untiring hand in duty. Firm of soul
And pure in purpose, on the eternal Rock
Of Christian trust her energies reposed,

And sought no tribute from a shadowy world.
Her early hope and homage clave to God,
When the bright skies, the untroubled scenes of youth
With all their song-birds, all their flowers rose up
To tempt her spirit. So, in hours of pain

He did remember her, and on her brow
And in her breast the dove-like messenger
Found peaceful home.

Oh thou whom grieving love Would blindly pinion in this vale of tears,

Farewell! it is a glorious flight for faith

To trace thy upward path, above this clime

Of change and storm. We will remember thee
At thy turf-bed-and 'mid the twilight hour,
Of solemn musing, when the buried friend
Comes back so visibly, and seems to fill
The vacant chair, our speech shall be of thee.

L. H. SIGOURNEY.

LONELINESS.

Go plunge in the depths of the forest's gloom, Or traverse the sea-beaten shore,

Or linger alone by the ruined tomb,
Or list to the night-wind's roar;—

And lonely thoughts may haunt thee then,
But never so sad will they be,

As when in the crowded cities of men,
Where all are strangers to thee!

For God seems present when man is alone,
And the spirit on Him relies;

But when 'mid the human world we're thrown,
The heart asks human ties.

SYMPATHY.

WE mourn for those who toil,

The slave who ploughs the main,

Or him who hopeless tills the soil

Beneath the stripe and chain :
For those who in the world's hard race
O'erwearied and unblest,

A host of restless phantoms chase-
Why mourn for those who rest?

We mourn for those who sin,

Bound in temptation's snare; Whom syren pleasure beckons on

To prisons of despair :

Whose hearts, by whirlwind passions torn,
Are wrecked on folly's shore-

But why in sorrow should we mourn
For those who sin no more?

We mourn for those who weep,
Whom stern afflictions bend
With anguish o'er the lowly sleep

Of lover or of friend :

But they to whom the sway

Of pain and grief is o'er, Whose tears our God hath wiped away, Oh! mourn for them no more!

L. H. SIGOURNEY.

THE CITY OF PETRA.

PETRA, the excavated city, the long-lost capital of Edom, in the Scriptures and profane writings, in every language in which its name occurs, signifies a rock; and through the shadows of its early history, we learn that its inhabitants lived in natural clefts, or in excavations made in the solid rock. Desolate as it now is, we have reason to believe that it goes back to the time of Esau, "the father of Edom;" that princes and dukes, eight successive kings, and again a long line of nobles, dwelt there before any king "reigned over Israel;" and we recognise it from the earliest ages, as the central point to which came the caravans from the interior of Arabia, Persia, and India, laden with all the precious commodities of the East, and from which these commodities were distributed through