23 JULY 1881, Page 14

POETRY.

LINES BY THE LITE DEAN OF WBSTMINSTER.

[We have received permission to print the following beautiful lines by the late Dean of Westminster, which can hardly, we think, be read without, to some extent, alleviating the pain which attends so great a loss.—Ea. Spectator.] I.

"Tin. Death us part."

So speaks the heart, When each to each repeats the words of doom ; Thro' blessing and thro' curse, For better and for worse, We will be one, till that dread hour shall come.

n.

Life, with its myriad grasp, Our yearning souls shall clasp, By ceaseless love, and still expectant wonder ; In bonds that shall endure, Indissolubly sure, Till God in death shall part our paths asunder..

Till Death us join.

0 voice yet more divine !

That to the broken heart breathes hope sublime ; Thro' lonely hours And shattered powers We still are one, despite of change and time.

iv.

Death, with his healing hand,

Shall once more knit the baud

Which needs but that one link which none may sever; Till, thro' the Only Good, Heard, felt, and understood, Our life in God shall make us one for ever.