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ON THE SUDDEN DEATH OFTHE REV. WILLIAM GAMMELL,OF NEWPORT, R. I. 1827.
High on the willows hang your harps,
Ye mourning, holy throng;
For Zion's teacher sleeps in dust,
And mute 's the instructive tongue.

Now with a pensive pace ye move
To the lone temple, where,
With eloquence divinely sweet,
His voice dispelled your care,

There mercy was his darling theme;
His soul, divinely taught,
Dwelt on the mysteries of His name,
Who our salvation brought.

There heavenly strains exstatic flowed,
Or mournful tones proclaimed
Our deep, original default;—
And Sinai threatening flamed.

Then peace descended like a dove,
On grace' seraphic wing;
And faith triumphant songs of love
Bade all the ransomed sing.