And then the scene was ended, and she found What here her ardent nature vainly sought, Unwithering flowers and music's tuneful sound Without a shadow or discordant thought, And entered through a dear Redeemer's love The never-changing clime of perfect rest above. MADAM WILLIAMS, Widow of the late EZEKIEL WILLIAMS, Esq., and Daughter of Chief Justice Oliver Ellsworth, died at Hartford, February 28th, 1860, aged 87. She was a link that bound us to the past,-- To the great days of Washington, when men Loving their country better than themselves Show'd to the world what patriot virtue meant. She on the knee of her majestic sire Drew to her listening heart when life was new Those principles that made his honored name Synonymous with wisdom, and the might Of holy truth. So when in woman's sphere She took her post of duty, still in all The delicate proprieties of life, The inner sanctities of household weal, In social elegance, and in the deeds That christian pity to the poor extends, She was our model; and we saw in her The perfect lady of the olden time. Thus on the pleasant hill-top where she dwelt In her green-terraced home, o'ercanopied By graceful elm, mid evergreens and flowers, The years stole over her, and slowly wrote Their more than fourscore on her faded scroll, While the kind care of unexhausted love Guarded her long decline. And now she sleeps Where thro' the riven snows, the quickening turf Gives emblem of the never-ending Spring, That wraps the accepted soul in robes of joy. SAMUEL G. OGDEN, ESQ., Died at Astoria, New York, April 5th, 1860. Upon his suffering couch he lay, Whose noble form and mind The stress of fourscore years had tried, Yet left a charm behind. The charm of heaven-born happiness Whose beauty may not fade, The charm of unimpair'd regard For all whom God had made. Upon his suffering couch he lay, While sadly gathering there, Were loved and loving ones, who made That honored life their care; And 'mid the group, a daughter's voice Of wondrous sweetness read Brief portions from the Book Divine, As his dictation led. "Bow down thine ear, Most Merciful, Oh, hearken while I speak, Now in my time of utmost need, To Thee alone I seek. Shew me some token, Lord, for good, Before I pass away, For Thou hast ever been my strength, My comforter and stay."[1] So when that precious breath went forth, Her gentle hand was laid To close those pale and trembling lids In slumber's dreamless shade, And then, the pure and sacred flowers She for his burial twined, And bade her struggling grief be still Till the last rite declined. Through every trial change of life Had reign'd within her breast A holy zeal of filial love, That could not be represt; Its memories, like a music strain, Still in that casket swell, And wake perchance, some fond response Where watching angels dwell.