The precious jewel which he gave.

But when the trump of God shall sound,
To call each sainted sleeper home,
Should they, with ev'ry child, surround
The mighty conq'ror of the tomb--

They'll cry, oh Lord, thou ever just,
Behold is and our children here!
Thou didst in love give them to us,
And we resigned them to thy care.

Now we will chant Redemption's sung,
Which Gabriel never learned to sing,
Nor one of all th' angelic throng,--
To Jesus, prophet, priest and king.




THE ROSE AND LILAC TREE.[2]

No garland, fresh from Eden's bowers,
Could be more sweet than these dear flowers
To each surviving friend;
They'll water them with falling tears,
And nurse them through succeeding years,
And from each ill defend.

Bloom on, each weeping parent cried,--