Or fall in fatal snares.

Thrice happy,—to have pass'd away

Ere Time's sore ills invade,—

From fragrant buds that drooping shed

Their life-sigh o'er thy coffin-bed—

To flowers that never fade.

[ MISS ELIZABETH BRINLEY, ]

Died at Hartford, September 28th, 1862.

We miss her at the chancel-side,

For when we last drew near,