“_Fresh as the morning, earnest as the hour That calls the noisy world to grateful sleep, Our silent thought reveres the nameless power That high seclusion round thy life doth keep._” SANBORN. XV. Daughter, beloved of all, thy tender eye, Sweet disposition, and thy gentle voice, Make every heart, full soon thy close ally, Respect thy wishes, thine unspoken choice,-- Hastening, unbidden, therewith to comply; They in thy cheerful countenance rejoice, Kindness unfailing, and quick sympathy. Peacemaker thou, with equanimity And aspirations far above thy care, Leavest no duty slighted or undone, Living for thy dear kindred, always there, Faithful as rising and as setting sun. Can I of lovelier mansion be possest, Than in thy heart to dwell a welcome guest? “_Stern daughter of the voice of God! O Duty, if that name thou love, Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou who art victory and law, When empty terrors overawe; And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity!_” WORDSWORTH. XVI. When I remember with what buoyant heart, Midst war’s alarms and woes of civil strife, In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart, At peril of thy safety, peace, and life, To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead-- How piercèd soon by fever’s poisoned dart, And brought unconscious home, with wildered head-- Thou, ever since, mid languor and dull pain, To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear, Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain, In myriad households kindled love and cheer; Ne’er from thyself by Fame’s loud trump beguiled, Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere:-- I press thee to my heart, as Duty’s faithful child. “_In deepest passions of my grief-swoll’n breast, Sweet soul, this only comfort seizeth me, That so few years should make thee so much blest, And give such wings to reach eternity._” BROWN’S SHEPHERD’S PIPE. XVII. ’T was not permitted thee the Fates to please, And with survivors share our happier day; For smitten early wast thou by disease, Whilst with thy sisters thou didst smile and play. Wasted by pains and lingering decay, Life’s glowing currents at the source did freeze; Yet, ere the angel summoned thee away, Above thy cheerful couch affection’s ray Did brightly shine, and all thy sufferings ease. Dear child of grace! so patient and so strong, Bound to thy duty by quick sympathy, They did our hearts irreparable wrong To break the promise of thy infancy; Ah me! life is not life, deprived of thee.