THE ELFIN TRIUMPHAL SONG.

Beautiful! beautiful!—On they float

Those lyre-like bells—a soul in each note,

A tongue in each tone of the elfin chime,

To carol the bliss of our fadeless clime.

Beautiful! beautiful!—halcyon rest

Breathe they to the weary, woe-worn breast;

Lost in their song is the dream of Earth's dree,

Companion dear! and they're singing for thee.

Beautiful! beautiful!—thou shalt feel

Their eloquent music from thee steal

Those darkling thoughts, that should mournfully twine

With the light, the life, and the joy—now thine.

Beautiful! beautiful!—each glad bell

Sings to thy soul—'Thou hast borne thee well:

The toil, the strife, and the tempest are o'er,

And thy rest is won—on the Deathless Shore.'