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These, when the altar of their God they serve
s, with hallow'd zeal,
Shall wear thy memory on their heart, an everlasting seal.
I hear a voice of wailing, from the islands of the
Sea, Salvation's distant heralds mourn on the heathen ... shores for thee,_
Thy constant love like Gilead's balm refresh'd their weary mind,
And with the holy Evants' name, thine own was strongly twin'd,
But thou from their astonish’d gaze hast like a vision fled,
Just wrapt his mantle round thy breast, then join'd him with the dead.
Farewell ! we yield thee to the grave with many a bitter tear, Though 'twas not meet a soul like thine should longer tarry here; Fond clustering hopes have sunk with thee that earth ean ne'er restore; Love casts a garland on thy turf that may not blos30m more : But thou art where the dream of Hope doth in fruition fade, And love immortal and refined, glow on without a shade. L. H. S. Hartford, February 12th, 1832. == From the New York Observer. visit To the isle of WiGht.
Messrs Editors, In compliance with your request, I herewith send you so much of the account of my visit to the Isle of Wight, as relates chiefly to the “Tracts” written by the Rev. Legh Richmond, the scenes of which are laid in that enchanting spot. It is but a part of a letter, hastily written to my family. I ought to add, that I had not read the “ Dairyman's Daughter” for a number of years before writing the letter, nor had I at that time seen the interesting description of a tour to the Isle of Wight, by the Rev.