This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1876 edition. Excerpt: ... clamour of mirth. The busy hand, busy no more, Is sunk from its labours to rest; Clos'd tight ev'ry window and door, Where once the gay passengers prest. The houses of frolic and fun, Are empty, and dreary, and dark; The din of the coaches is done, And the weary horse rests from his work Just such is the season of death, Which comes upon each of us fast! The bosom can't flutter with breath, When life's little day-time is past. The blood freezes cold in its vein, The heart sinks for ever to rest; Not a fancy flits over the brain, Nor a sigh finds its way from the breast. The tongue stiff and silent is grown, The pale lips move never again; The smile and the dimple are flown, And the voice both of pleasure and pain. Clay cold the once feverish head, The bright eye is sullen and dark; For death's gloomy shadows have spread That night in which no man can work. But as from the silence and gloom, Another gay morning shall rise, So, bursting awake from the tomb, We shall mount far away to the skies. And those who with meekness and pray'r, In the paths of religion have trod, Shall worship all glorious there, Among the archangels of God. ANN. DEAF MARTHA. flOOR Martha is old, and her hair is turn'd grey, And her hearing has left her this many long year; Ten to one if she knows what it is that you say, Tho' she puts her poor wither'd hand close to her ear. I've seen naughty children run after her fast, And cry, "Martha, run, there's a bullock so bold," And when she was frighten'd, laugh at her at last, Because she believ'd the sad stories they told. I've seen others put their mouths close to her ear, And make signs, as if they had something to say; And when she said, " Master, I'm deaf and can't hear," Point at her, and mock...