In God, your kind Father, rest hope and belief, And He in His mercy will bring you relief, Have faith in His power, believe in His love, And He’ll lead you in safety to heaven above, Where Rolla’s charming voice so sweet and so true, Is calling, “Pa and ma, I’m waiting for you.” TO THE MEMORY OF A GOOD WOMAN. Gone from a life full of sorrow and care, Gone to that realm where the good only go, Gone from a world where true pleasure is rare, Gone to that place so delightful to know. Now she will find the rest so long needed, Now she is free from all toil and burthen, Now she will meet the Lord she has heeded, Now her sweet soul is happy in heaven. No one can fill the place she left vacant, No mother now teach her children the way, No grief can come to her home so distant, No perils of life endanger her stay. O may her spirit shine forth like a star, O may its light ever brighten our path, O may it lead where she awaits us afar, O may her love ever save us from wrath. Sweet be thy home, dearest mother and friend, Sweet as the peace that can never depart, Sweet be thy life in the world without end, Sweet as the love that o’erflowed from your heart. MEMORIAL LINES. On the death of Mrs. Maggie Blood, an exceedingly bright and popular young wife. O God! why teach us how to love so strong? Why make our hearts so warm, soft and tender? Why fill the world with happiness and song, Since we must all to cold death surrender? Why take from us this good and noble life, In spite of love and skill in human arts? This precious daughter, sister, loving wife, And make us weep and mourn with broken hearts? Why take the brightest and best in the land, And leave those behind we can better spare? Is it to place them at Thy own right hand, Where bliss eternal they will ever share? Does heaven demand this great sacrifice, That we should have cause to love it the more, Think less of this earth with its sin and vice, Take more interest in the other shore? When earth is deprived of the good and true, Do they join Thy hosts in the world above? O tell us, God, is Maggie there with You, Safe, well and happy in the realm of love? How will it be known when the answer comes, Must we show our faith ere we can hear it? Then drive the sorrow from our saddened homes, For Thou, O God, hast power to do it. TO THE MEMORY Of Mrs. Fidelia Whitaker, the excellent wife of my old and good friend, Byron Whitaker of Detroit, Michigan. Mrs. Whitaker had many fine qualities, and commanded my respect and esteem to a high degree.