The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1842-09-20 00:00:00

Vottrpo

THE VILLAGE CHURCH.

How many a year has passed since first the chime
Of those clear bells rung on the morning air I
How many are the changes time has brought
Since the long shadow sank at evening fair,
Like a vast dial, from yon worn grey tower,
Then in its pride of strength, its first and vernal hour !
And still on Sabbath morn and festival
Thy music mingles with the stir of life ;
As in the days long past, their joyous call
Swells out in eager yet harmonious strife,
Far o'er the valley and the woodland heard,
Blent with the shrill notes of the soaring bird.
The sun gleams through the tracery of the shrine
On the dark graven stones, whence listless feet
Have swept away the faint and mournful line,
Effacing, where the dead and living meet,
The last memorial of the loved of old,
Left henceforth to their rest, the undisturbed and cold.
Change comes to all on earth ! Another race
Hath gathered round the altar in past years,
And rites antique once filled the holy place,
That cherished other hopes and sterner fears ;
While the lone mass was offered for the dead,
And imaged saints have smiled beneath the fretted shade.
But these are fled! The deep mysterious tone
Hath left no echo as it passed away
Of the old hymns breathed forth in words unknown,
When truth in error's slumberous cradle lay ;
Changed is the adoring crowd, the muttered prayer,
But the Cross triumphs still, the hallowed Faith is there !

Time hath dealt sternly with all prouder things,
Yet pauseth ere he touch thy sacred walls,
As he sweeps down with his destructive wings
Palace and haughty tower and storied halls;
But the slow course of years beholds the spire
Through troubled ages rise unharmed,though girt with fire.
Still to thy shadow the full heart of man
Hath brought its burden as those years roll by,
The blessing on his brief and restless span,
The solemn hope bound with the marriage tie,
And the last awful honours of the grave,
When dust returns to earth, the soul to Him who gave.
These are thy gifts ! All scenes of human life
Thy pillowed aisles have witnessed,—that low door,
Duly unclosed, hath welcomed in the wife,—
The child,—ere long the man,—then the dark floor
Is worn by younger steps, and like a dream
A generation fades ! on sweeps the circling stream!
But 'mid the symbols of their mouldering rest
Rises thy treasury of hope and prayer ;
How like a witness to the thoughtful breast !
Truth's ever-burning lamp 'mid worldly glare !
And the deep voice of warning in the tone
Of thy clear bells, the breath of ages gone !
S. V., 1842.

HERALDRY.
Where'er a batchment we discern,
(A truth before ne'er started,)
The motto makes us surely learn
The sex of the departed.
If 'tis the husband sleeps, he deems
Death's day a " felix dies,"
Of unaccustomed quiet dreams,
And cries—ln ccelo Quies.
But if the wife, she from the tomb
Wounds, Parthian like, "post tergum,"
Hints to her spouse his future doom,
And threatening cries—Resurgam.

LITERARY NOTICES.

The Abbotsford Edition of the Waverley Novels. No. 11.
Edinburgh : R. Cadell. London : Houlston and Stone-
man.
The number before us contains the conclusion of " Guy
Mannering," which completes the first volume, and we are
furnished with an index of reference to the illustrations,
title-page, &c., ready for binding. Two entire novels, it
appears, will be comprised in each volume ; and a handsomer
series than these will furnish, have never adorned the library.
The illustrations continue to be of the best description, and
type and paper of the same excellent quality as in former
numbers. We have the commencement of " The Anti-
quary " in the present.