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poems.
Virtue, when life's bright hues are fled,
Its fragrant breath bestows.

Thus, Hannah, let thy virtues give
Their fragrance rich and free;
Thy name a cherished treasure live,
Enshrined in memory.




CELESTIAL VISITANTS. "What could be more consoling, than the idea that the souls of those we once loved, were permitted to return and watch over our welfare?"Washington Irving.
Blest thought! that they, whose love was shed
Around us in life's summer day;
They whom we call the lost, the dead,
Still linger round our earthly way;
Still list to catch our varied strain,—
Or swelled with joy, or fraught with pain.

Sweet hope! that they whose glance has caught
A light from heaven's all-hallowed flame,
May with love's changeless fervor fraught,
Gaze on our pathway, still the same.
Ah! do they rest in tender truth,
Round the loved objects of their youth?