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From the Episcopal Recorder.
THE LOVED AND LOST.
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Time hath not power to bear away
Thine image from the heart;
No scenes that mark life's onward way
Can bid it hence depart.
Yet. while our souls with anguish riVen,
Mourn, loved and lost, for thee,
We raise our fearful eyes to Heaven,
And Joy that thou art free,
We miss thee from the band SO dear
That gathers round our hearth,
We listen still thy voice to hear
Amid our household mirth;
We gaze upon thy vacant chair,


Thy form we seem to see,
We start to find thou art not there,
Yet Joy that thou art FREE
A thousand old familiar things,


Within our childhood's home,
Speak of the cherished, absent one,
Who never more shall come.
They wake with mingled bliss and pain,
Fond memories of theei
But would we call thee back again
We Joy that thou art free
Amid earth's conflict, woe and care,
When our dark path appears,
IT'S sweet to know thou canst nor share
Our anguish and our tears;
That on thy head no more shall fall
The storms we may not flee;
Yes, safely sheltered from them all,
We joy that thou art free
For thou hast gained brighter land,


And Deaths cold stream is past
Thine are the joys at Gods right hand,
That shall forever last
A crown is on thy angel brow,


Thine eye the King doth see,
Thy home is with the seraphS now


We Joy that thou art free