With brow unruffled and with mind serene,

Thy Saviour's praise employed thy faltering tongue:

And though no kindling raptures marked thy flight,

Thy faith unshaken showed that all was right!

Those who beheld thee in the burning hour,

When fever raged in every throbbing vein,

Oft shall recount the parting struggle o'er,

The scene on memory's tablets long retain—

Each gracious word, each kindly glance, that told

The Christian's love, ere that warm heart was cold!

Thy memory is a pure and holy thing,

Embalmed and treasured in the hearts of those

Who saw thee, like an angel, ministering

The precious balm that softens human woes.

Thou didst not hide thy talent in the dust;

Anxious that all should own the same high trust.—

[Pg 72]

Deeply concerned that other realms should share

Those blessed promises so dear to thee,—

That messengers of mercy should declare

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