Mrs, Lydia H. Sigourney.

Farewell, thou consecrated dome,

Whence prayer and chant and anthem rose,

Whose walls have given meek Hope a home,

And tearful Penitence repose.

Here gathered round their Shepherd guide

A flock to the Redeemer dear,

While praise, in full responsive tide,

Soared heavenward to its native sphere.

And duly here has childhood's train

Bowed to Instruction's mildest sway.

But were those ceaseless lessons vain?

The page of doom alone can say.

Here many a brow in beauty's prime,

Hath faded like the rose-tinged cloud;

And many a head grown white with time,

That towered in manhood's glory proud.

Oh! If from yon celestial place,

Bright bands regard a world like this,

Here many a sainted soul may trace

The birthplace of its endless bliss.

With tenderest recollections fraught,

How do these parting moments swell!

Thou ancient nurse of Holy thought, -

Dear, venerated friend -- Farewell!

Dr Dana's Meeting House