Lines, Written on the Death of Mrs. Caroline P. Baldwin, Who Died July 6, 1827.

O bring a wreath of summer flow'rs, And twine it lightly round her brow; How calmly pass these holy hours-- Mysterious death is with her now. His icy breath is on her cheek, His dew is freezing on her brow; Her eyes no more earth's shadows seek-- Eternity's before them now. She sees a glittering angel band, On downy pinions floating by, To waft her to the spirit land, Beyond the blue etherial sky. And hears low music stealing by,-- From golden harps the concert rings; Earth mingles in the melody That rises, to the King of kings. "Husband, I know I'm dying now, Life's golden sands are waning fast; Seal on my lips the parting kiss,-- It is the last one--yes, the last. "Now bring to me our blue eyed boy,-- I'd gaze upon his face once more; May he, kept from earth's alloy, Meet me on yon blissful shore." "Mother, your love is pure and deep-- I know the fount will never dry; But in its onward current keep, Through a long eternity. "Sister, I'm passing to the tomb, When life's young morn is fair and bright; And shrouded soon, my youthful bloom Shall dreamless sleep in death's dark night. "Dark, did I say--O, no, I see The golden city full in view; The pitying Saviour smiles on me, And angel-bands conduct me through. "Sweet as the carol of a bird, Soft as the gentlest summer sigh, When scarce one trembling leaf is stirr'd My sinking pulses faint and die." And so death rested on her cheek,-- Lingering in "strange beauty there;" That seraph smile a rapture speaks-- That earthly pleasures may not share.