A SACRED MELODY.
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
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If yon bright stars. which gem the night,


Be each blissful dwelling sphere,
Where kindred spirits re-unite,


Whom death hath torn asunder here
How sweet it were at once 10 die
3t And leave this blighted orb afar:
Mix soul to soul to cleave the sky,


And soar away from star to star.
But 0 how dark, how drear, how lone,


Would seem the brightest world OF bliss,
II, wandering through each radiant one,


We fail TO fld the love of this;
Ifthere no more the ties shall twlne.
That deaths cold hand, alone can sever;
All! then those stars in mockery shine,


More hateful as they shine forever.
II cannot be; each hope, each fear


That lights the eye, or clouds the brow,
Proclaims there is happier sphere,


Than this black world that holds us now
There is voice which sorrow hears,


When heaviest weighs life's Calling char
IT'S heaven that whispers--dry thy tears,
The pure in heart shall meet again.