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 BY P. BENJAMIN..
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..,Tis sweet to beeve Of the absent we love, If VIC miss them below we shall meet them above,p The departed! the departed!

 They visit us in dreams; And they glide above our memories, Like shadows over streams; But where the cheerful lights of home In constant lnstrc burn, The departed--the departed

 Gan never more return! The good, the brave, tine beautiiui-- How dreamless is their sleep, Where rolls the drge-like music

 0fthe eyer-tossing deep; Or where the mourniul nght-wntis Pale Winters robe have spread Above their narrow palaces

 In the cities of the dead! look around, and feel the awe or one who walks alone Among the wreeks Of former days, In dismal ruin strown; ! start to hear the stirring sounds. From the leaves of withered trees, For the voice of the departed

 Seems borne upon the breeze. That solemn voice! it mingles with Each gay and careless strain; ] scarce can think earth's minstrelsy Will cheer my heart again: The glad song of the summer waves, The thrilling notes of birds, Can never be so dear to me

 As their remembered words. sometimes dreau tiieiT pleasant pleasant s..!!e Still on me sweetly fall; Their tones of love faintly hear Ny name in sadness call- know that they are happy,

 With their angel plumage oni But my heart is very desolate To think that they are gone.