Her cheeks colored by nature's warm glow;
With her full lustrous and speaking black eyes,
And rich ringlets that grace her young brow.

Walter's the last on the painting we see,
Little Walter, the youngest of all;
Look! he's repeating his lesson just now,
Mark the expression on that infant brow,
He's a _wonder_, for scholar so small.

But there's one in this grouping we look for in vain,
Whose image we often recall;
How mournfully sweet is the sound of thy name,
Dear Elbridge, the loved one of all.

Thou wert called in the freshness of morning away,
By him who all things doeth well;
The rest for brief periods are suffered to stay,
How long, we may none of us tell.

May the Holy Book studied in this Sabbath School,
Be more precious than silver or gold;
Be its doctrines received, and its precepts obeyed,
And _rich treasures_ it still will unfold.

And when one by one we shall all pass away,
To me, oh! my Father, be given
The joy that no heart upon earth can conceive,
To meet all in the kingdom of Heaven.