was read and sung.

Once more the children were all together under the roof where they had
often met; all save the son whose home was now in a sunnier clime. But
how unlike was this to their last joyful gathering! Hours of rejoicing,
and hours of mourning, ye are strangely blended in the experience of
human hearts.

The little village burying-ground was not far distant. A grave was
opened there, for him who but one short week ago was as full of life, of
bounding vigor and of high hopes, as the strongest there.

"Oh, had it been but told you then,
To mark whose lamp was dim;
From out the ranks of these young men
Would ye have singled _him_?

"Whose was the sinewy arm that flung
Defiance to the ring?
Whose shout of victory loudest rung?
Yet not for glorying.

"Whose heart in generous thought and deed,
No rivalry could brook?
And yet distinction claiming not;
There lies he,--go and look!

"Tread lightly, comrades! we have laid
His dark locks on his brow;
Like life, save deeper light and shade,--