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And muse untired. Oh! if on human life
Immortal spirits do attend and watch
Unseen, the erring steps of mortal man,
Here in this sacred spot they sure must rest.
Could I but shake the mist from off my eyes
And now behold them in this lovely shade;
I could imagine it were Paradise!
But oh! vain wish: each bond has long been burst
By man's transgressions—that spiritual
And mortal beings, bound in friendly intercourse,
Sad thought,—Death and the grave alone can now
Effect our union with angels, and conduct
Our souls to never-ending Paradise.



A soft Answer turneth away Wrath; but grievous words stir up Strife."—Provers, xxv chap. 1 v.
Though angry looks and angry words
Assail thee with their ten-fold ire,
Which seem to snap affections cords,
And wrath and malice to inspire;
Still kindly look and softly speak,
Let thy response be always mild,
And fervently, but gently, seek
To calm with meekness passion's child.