BROKEN TIES.

BY J. MONTGOMERY.

THE broken ties of happier days,
How often do they seem
To come before our mental gaze,
Like a remembered dream;
Around us each dissevered chain
In sparkling ruin lies,

And earthly hand can ne'er again
Unite those broken ties.

The parents of our infant home,
The kindred that we loved,

Far from our arms, perchance, may roam,
To distant scenes removed;

Or we have watched their parting breath,
And closed their weary eyes,

And sigh'd to think how sadly death
Can sever human ties.

The friends, the loved ones of our youth, They, too, are gone or changed,

Or, worse than all, their love and truth Are darkened and estranged.

They meet us in a glittering throng,
With cold, averted eyes,

And wonder that we weep our wrong,
And mourn our broken ties.

Oh! who, in such a world as this,
Could bear their lot of pain,
Did not one radiant hope of bliss,
Unclouded, yet remain ?—

That hope the sovereign Lord has given,
Who reigns beyond the skies:
That hope unites our souls to Heaven,
By truth's enduring ties.

Each care, each ill of mortal birth,
Is sent in pitying love,

To lift the lingering heart from earth,

And speed its flight above;

And every pang which rends the breast,

And every joy that dies,

Tells us to seek a heavenly rest,

And trust to holier ties.