The air of _death_ breathes through our souls, The _dead_ all round us lie; By day and night the _death_-bell tolls, And says, “Prepare to _die_!” The loving ones we love the best, Like music all are gone! And the wan moonlight bathes in rest Their monumental stone. But not when the _death_-prayer is said, The life of life departs; The body in the grave is laid, Its beauty in our hearts. _Professor Wilson._ Sleep on, sleep on, ye resting _dead_; The grass is o’er ye growing In dewy greenness. Ever fled From you hath Care; and in its stead Peace hath with you its dwelling made, Where tears do cease from flowing-- Sleep on! _Robert Nicol._ All at rest now--all dust!--wave flows on wave; But the sea dries not!--what to us the grave? It brings no real homily; we sigh, Pause for awhile and murmur, “all must _die_!” Then rush to pleasure, action, sin once more, Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore. _Sir E. Bulwer Lytton._ Ah! it is sad when one thus link’d departs! When _Death_, that mighty sev’rer of true hearts, Sweeps through the halls so lately loud in mirth, And leaves pale Sorrow weeping by the hearth! _Mrs. Norton._ So live, that when thy summons comes, The innumerable caravan that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of _death_, That thou, sustained and soothed, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch Around him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. _W. C. Bryant._ DEFENCE. Be thou my strong rock, for an house of _defence_ to save me.--Psalm xxxi. 2. Deliver me from my enemies, O my God: _defend_ me from them that rise up against me.--Psalm lix. 1. Who trust in thee, O let not shame deject! Thou ever just, my chased soule secure: Lord lend a willing eare, with speede protect; Be thou my rock; with thy strong arme immure. My rock, my fortresse, for thy honour aid, And my engaged feet from danger guide, Pull from their subtile snares in secret laid, O thou, my only strength, so often try’d. O let thy face upon thy servant shine; Save for thy mercies sake, from shame _defend_. Shame cover those who keepe no lawes of thine, And undeplored to the grave descend! _Sandys._ How are thy servants blest O Lord! How sure is their _defence_! Eternal wisdom is their guide, Their help omnipotence. In midst of dangers, fears, and death, Thy goodness I’ll adore; And praise thee for thy mercies past, And humbly hope for more.