When all these years, so few and fleet,

Fade like a mist away,

This sorrow that thy soul hath bowed,

Shall seem but as an April cloud,

Before the noon-tide ray.

[ MRS. HARVEY SEYMOUR, ]

Died at Hartford, Sunday, May 5th, 1861.

She found a painless avenue to make

The great transition from a world of care

To one of rest.