:. J. JARVES, Editor.

> = 6 + p =.

MOZAR Us REQUIEM.
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BY RUFUS DAWES.
The tongue of the vigilant clock toled one,
In deep and hollow tone;
The shrouded moon looked out upon
A cold, dank region, more cherries and


dun,


By the lurid light that shone.
Mozart now rose from a restless bed,
And his heart was sick with care:
Though long had he wooingy sought to wed
Sweet Sleep, twas in vain, tor the coy maid


fled,


Though he followed her every where.
IIe knclt to the God Of his worship then,
And breathed ID icrvent prayer;
YTwas balm to his soul, and he rose again
" th strengthened spirit, bu started when
lie marked stranger there.
He was tall, the stranger who gazed on him,
Wrapped high in ii sable snroud;
lis cheek was pale, and his eye was dim,
And the melodist trembled in every limb,
The while his heart beat loud.
Mozart, there is one whose errand bear,
VIII" cannot be known to thee;
le grieves for friend, and would have thee


prepare
4 requiem, bIcndng a mournIill air
w 18th the sweetest melody"
Ill furnish the requiem then" he cried,
when this moon has "aned away!'
str h,, ypt Il
But fled ike the shade on mountain S side,
When the sunlight hides his ray.
|Dlozart grew pale when the vision fed,
/ And his heart beat high with fear;
fie knew twas a messenger sent from the


dead,
To warn him, that soon he must make his
In the dark, chill sepuchre.
lie knew that the days Of his life were told,
And his breast grew faint within;
The blood through his bosom crept slowly


and cold,
And his lamp of life could barely hold
The flame that was fickering.
Yet he went to his task with n cheerful zeal,
While his days and nights were one;
He spoke not, he moved not, but only to


kneel


With the holy prayer-"O God, l feel
IT'S best thy will be done!"
lie gazcd on his loved one, who cherished


him well,


And wcepingIy hung DER him:
This music will chime with my funeral


knell,
And my spirit shall float, at the passing bell,
On the notes of this rcquiem"
The cold moon waned: on that cherries


day


The stranger appeared once more;
Mozart had finished his requiem lay,
But e'er the last notes had died away,
His spirit had gone before.
x,,1,