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So, wrapped in melody and love, That infant form was laid, Like sculptured marble, cold and pure, Within the hallowed shade.

And while the parting summer-sun Sent forth a blessed ray, They smoothed its little pillowed turf, And calmly went their way.

Yet oft shall tender Memory touch With light that never fails, That simple funeral scene, amid The green Moravian vales.

The settlements of Bethlehem and Nazareth, in Pennsylvania, inhabited by the Moravians, are truly interesting to strangers. They exhibit peculiar indications of order, industry, and comfort, and the expanse of ten miles which divides them, is marked by neat and careful cultivation. The beauty of the groves was particularly obvious, kept free from underwood, and carpeted with fresh, clean turf, scarcely defaced by a scattered leaf or spray.

The banks of the Lehigh, at Bethlehem, are over-shadowed by large, lofty, umbrageous trees, which add much to the romantic character of the landscape. We visited the school for girls, which enjoyed a high rep-