172 CHURCH REVIEW.
BISHOP JOHN M. BROWN.
PEACE ! I speak of one whose soul has passed
From Earth's uncertain ways to ways of God;
Whose lifeless form in calm repose at last
Doth lie beneath a swelling of the sod.
Though centuries old may grow the solemn spot,
Remembered still will be his sacred dust,
His name shines 'midst the grand, immortal lot,
For such, the damps of time can never rust.
How lofty were conceptions of his mind,
Some cast upon the battle-fields of thought--
His words and deeds fore'er are left behind,
To grace the stately monument he hath wrought.
In life he trod the Christian hero's pass-
'Tis mankind's brightest, surest way on earth-
He toiled for the common good of its mortal mass
And human tongue cannot compute his worth.
More eloquent the practiced tongue of Time--
O what a mighty master of his art!--
And deeds like these in language that's sublime,
To all posterity he will impart.
Rest,-in thy silent sepulcher,
Attended oft by fondest memory,
That time did come-and naught can it deter-
When mystic Death thy wearied soul did free.
How grand the panorama of thy life !
And when our eyes behold a scene like this,
'Tis sweet to know the soul passed from its strife
To endless day or to eternal bliss.
O. W. KNIGHT.