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SELECT REMAINS OF

A STORY OF HEAVEN.




Before a lowland cottage,
With climbing roses gay,
I stood one summer's eve, to watch
Two children at their play.

All round the garden walks they ran,
Filling the air with glee,
Till they were tired, and sate them down
Beneath an old oak tree.

They were silent for a little space,
And then the boy began:—
"I wonder, sister dear, if I
Shall ever be a man.

"I almost think I never shall,
For often, in my sleep,
I dream that I am dying—
—Nay, sister, do not weep!

"It is a joyful thing to die;
For, though this world is fair,
I see a lovelier in my dreams,
And I fancy I am there.