18 MEMOIR OF EMMA TATHAM.
Of the fond heart whereto she presses it Half bmds the fluttering dove to its white cage. And keeps the pulse at play. 0, she would pour Her own hfe into the cold cold babe with joy ! Therefore she binds him so about her heart, To make him still live on, thinking to blend Her being with the babe : but lo ! the bud Of immortality, nursed in her breast. Hath blossom'd into heaven. So let me die Where the warm life of Jesus shall inspire My fainting spirit, and His heart shall beat New pulses into mine ! "
Her prayer was auswered ; for thus she died. — Her mortal re- mains were interred, according to her own request, in the burial- ground of the chapel, Redbourn, Herts. A large number of sor- rowing friends attended on the mournM occasion, — some of whom had come from considerable distances. On the folio (ving Sunday evening, a most impressive discourse was delivered by the Rev. J. C. Westbrook, founded on the text, a favourite one with the dear departed, — "Christ is our Life."
The Volume, ivith Memoir, price hs., postage free (which may be remitted in stamps,) on application to Mr. Keble, High Street ; or Mr. G. Tatham, 7, Addington Square, Margate, Kent.
KKBLE, PRINTER.
