The knot of crape upon yon stately door, And sadness brooding o'er the sun-bright halls, What do they signify? Death hath been there Where truth and goodness hand in hand with love Walk'd for so many years. Death hath been there, To do mid flowing tears his mighty work, Extinguishing the tyranny of pain And taking the immortal essence home Where it would be. Yet is there left behind A transcript that we cherish, and a chasm We have no power to fill. Almost it seems That we beheld him still, with quiet step Moving among us, saintly and serene, Clear-sighted, upright, held in high regard, Yet meekly unambitious, seeking nought Of windy honor from the mouth of men But with the Gospel's perfect code content, Breathing good-will to all. Freely his wealth Wrought blessed channels mid the sons of need, Lending Philanthropy and Piety A stronger impulse in their mission-course To ameliorate and save. So, thus intent On higher deeds and aims than earth supplies, An adept in that true philosophy Learnt only in Christ's school, he calmly went Unto his Master and the Class above. REV. HENRY ALBERTSON POST, Died at Warrensburgh, New York, November 12th, 1861, aged 26. [1]Read me rejoicing Psalms, Oh dearest one, and best! I go from war to peace, From pain to glorious rest, Where the bright life-tree sheds Around its precious balms, So, while I linger here Read me rejoicing psalms. And when my place I take Amid the ransom'd throng Who through a Saviour's love Uplift the immortal song, Repress the tear of grief That washes faith away, And brave in zeal and love Await our meeting-day. Yes, let thy course below Through all its fleeting days In its angelic ministries Be as a psalm of praise. [1] His request of his wife during the sufferings of an acute dyptheria, which suddenly separated him from an attached people, was, "Read me rejoicing Psalms." MISS CAROLINE L. GRIFFIN, Died at New York, November 17th, 1861. WRITTEN ON HER BIRTH-DAY. The day returns, beloved friend When in thy Mother's arms Thou a fair gift from Heaven wert laid In all thine infant charms, That day, with cloudless sky returns, But yet thou art not here And from the smitten Mother's eye Distils the mourner's tear. The wondrous brightness of thy smile, Thy tones of greeting kind, The love of knowledge that inspired Thy strong and ardent mind, Thy pity for the suffering poor, Thy patient zeal to teach Their children, though in manners rude And ignorant in speech, And all thy many deeds and words Of friendship's earnest part, Are with a never-fading trace Depictured on my heart. But thou art with that Saviour dear Who was thine early choice, And mid thy blooming youth didst bend A listener to His voice,