THERE IS NO DEATH.
[by sic ed-wabd btoweb ltxton] There is no death ! The stars go down To rise upon some fairer shore ; And bright in Heaven's jewelled crown, They shine for evermore. There is no death ! The dust we tread Shall change beneath the summer's showers. To golden grain or mellow fruit. Or rainbow-tinted flowers. The granite rocks disorganise To feed the hungry moss they bear ; The forest leaves drink daily life From out the viewless air. There is no death ! The leaves may fall The flowers may fade and pass away ; They only wait, through wintry hours The coming of the May. There is no death ! An angel form Walks o'er the earth with silent tread ; He bears our best loved thing away, And then we call them " dead." He leaves our hearts all desolate — He plucks our fairest flowers ; Transplanted into bliss, they now Adorn immortal, bowers. The bird-like voice, whose joyous tones Made glad these scenes of sin and strife, Sings now an everlasting song Amid the tree of life. And where he sees a smile too bright, Or heart too pure for taint or vice, He bears it to that world of light, To dwell in Paradise. Born into that undying life, They leave us but to come again ; With joy we welcome them — the same, Except in sin and pain. And ever near us, though unseen, The dear immortal spirits tread ; For all the boundless universe Is life — there are no dead.
"Could ye no get a drappie till's this tnornin' — jisfc a weetin' ?" said a Kirriemuir weaver, who liked the dramshop better than the worship, to his better half. " I'se do that," was the response, and, before he could rise from his seat, he had the contents of a pail newly filled from the spring "plashing" about his ears. "Ye hae socht a weetin', and ye hae gotten't," was the wife's remark as she returned the pail to its place.
On each side of the Murray road between Sandhurst and Huntly, the thistles are growing luxuriantly, * and in places are so dense thfit it is with difficulty and danger a passage can be found through them. They will be thi owing off their seeds before long, and the country for miles round will be covered with the nuisance.
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Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 333, 25 February 1874, Page 3
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385THERE IS NO DEATH. Tuapeka Times, Volume VII, Issue 333, 25 February 1874, Page 3
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