Drooping she bends o'er pensive fancy's urn,
To trace the hours which never can return;
Yet with retrospection loves to dwell,
And soothe the sorrows of her last farewell!"




CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE ANTITYPE OF THE CHRISTIAN HOME.

"Oh, talk to me of heaven! I love
To hear about my home above;
For there doth many a loved one dwell
In light and joy ineffable.

"O! tell me how they shine and sing,
While every harp rings echoing,
And every glad and tearless eye
Beams like the bright sun gloriously.

"Tell me of that victorious palm,
Each hand in glory beareth;
Tell me of that celestial calm,
Each face in glory weareth!"


The Christian home on earth is but a type of his better home in heaven. The
pious members feel the force of this. Every thing within their earthly