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CRUCE AND CORONA.
He clasps his hands in holy peace, and says,"For so He giveth His beloved sleep."
The Sabbath twilight veils the sacred sceneOf solemn tenderness and holy grief.
The starry spheres, that look on earth to-nightWith that same aspect which of old they wore,Ere our young earth had known of grief or death,By influence mysterious seem to drawThe spirits of Corona and Crucè,Who lift unconsciously their tearful gazeTo heav'n's bright concave, while they wend their way—Each sorrow's silence keeping—to their home.
III.
'Tis sunset on the isle; and in its hav'nThe mission-ship, arriving, anchors now.The stranger missionaries on the shoreAre welcomed; for their holy work invitesThe kind regards which Christian hearts should showTo Christ's ambassadors.In prime of lifeThe most appear, a zealous youthful band.Now comes on shore the leader of this band,
