Year: 1870

TThe following poem was written by Mrs.
Earle, formerly Miss Sarah Brown, expressly
for the Sabbath School Sociable of the Hano-
yer Street Presbyterian Church, held on the
evening of the 18th of last month. 1t was read
on that occasion by young lady, scholar in
the school, and we publish it not only to give the
very many friends of Mrs. Earle in this city an
opportunity to read it, but because of the beau-
tiful tribute it makes to our estimable fellow
citizens, the Hon. Willard Hail. and to the late
John B. Porter, Esq, the former having been
connected with the school for about forty years,
and the latter librarian OF the school for at least
twenty-five years.


The thought Of Hanover, in school reunion,


Is like returning to an old-time home,
Where loving spirits revel in communion


As gladly to the parent hearth they come.
We all are brothers in divine relation;


We choose our work, lind out our lifting place
Here or abroad as each new generation


Comes on the stage Its mission path to trace.
But never can the tender memories perish


That haunt the sacred chambers of the soul,
Our Pentacosts' the heart will fondly cherish
As surges of the 0lden gl0ries roll
Here has been Graded many newborn spirit
Nurtured and guided in the way Of truth, II
Taught how the Land of Promise to Inherit


To nnd the lamp that lights the path Of youth
out from these ranks have gone mighty legion
To battle with the hosts Of wrong and SIM
To spread Gods message over every region


And gather crowds Of wandering children in.
And still they come into the shepherds folding
10 learn the way, the truth, the life to find;
And. looking up, the Lamb Of God beholding,


Rejoice to follow for the voice is kind.
Some of the faithful have gone home before us,
Have heard their I" well DONE" worn their starry


crown;


Their benediction still is lowering DER us;


AS we revere their christian-like renown
For twenty-five long years of earnest labor


This school was gladdened by one mild, sweet


face


One great heart called all humankind Its neighbor
And blcsses still from his bright resting place.
How sweet to know that God his children claiming
Cannot mistake in numbering their days!
That we who wait to hear our own last naming


Shall surely meet our just reward Of praise
This for our courage who are still on duty,


Who for so long have labored at the helni
The goal to win is named Celestial Beauty,


And halleujahs roll throughout the realm.
While all are true, I still desire to proffer


My loving tribute to one honored name,
To one strong hand my fervent clasp offer,


To one bald brow the right hulnbly claim
To twine a chaplet of the flower immortal


That sheds its tender glory far and wide,
And scatters fragrance even to the portal


That wells the brightness Of the other side.
'Tis this: for truth and right 80 brayey spoken,


For voice importunate in earnest prayer,
For bread OF life to hungry sinners broken,


A loving tribute to Judge Hall bear!
His be the homage from hearts strong and tender
That in Christ's love have gathered closely here
His be the jewelled crown when we surrender


Our hold upon the cherished presence here.
And his the greeting from the hosts of Heaven,


So thickIy marsnaIlcd on tine shining plain,
Where shouts of "Glory to the Lamb are given
May Hanover join loudly in Amen!