 calm, serene, and bright--
     Fit emblems of the God, who changes not.
     Only in him can we find sure repose
     'Mid change, decay and death, who is the same
     To-day as yesterday, forevermore.
           Through the clear air peal forth the silvery notes,
     Of thy old Bell, thou venerable pile,
     Thou dear old Church, whose birthday rare,
     We come to celebrate with tender love.
           One Hundred years! How long; and yet, how short
     When counted with the centuries of the past
     That help to make the ages of the world:
     How long when measured by our daily cares,
     The joys, the sorrows that these years have brought
     To us and ours. "Our fathers, where are they?"
     The men of strength, one hundred years ago,
     As full of courage, purpose, will, as we,
     Have gone to join the "innumerable throng"
     That worship in the Father's House above.
     Their children, girls and boys, like the fair flowers,
     Have blossomed, faded, and then passed away,
     Leaving their children and grandchildren, too,
     To fill their places, take their part in life.
           How oft, dear Church, these walls have heard the vows
     That bound two hearts in one.  How oft the tread
     Of those that bore the sainted dead to rest.
     How oft the voices, soft and low, of those
     Who, trusting in a covenant-keeping God
     Gave here their little ones to God. A faith
     Which He has blessed, as thou canst truly tell,
     In generations past, and will in days to come.
     How many servants of the most high God,
     Beneath thy roof have uttered words divine,
     Taught by the Spirit, leading souls to Christ
     And reaping, even here, their great reward.
     Many of these have entered into rest
     Such as remains for those who love the Lord.
     Others to-day, have gathered here to tell
     What God has done in years gone by, and bear
     Glad testimony to the truth, that in this place
     His name has honored been.--'Tis sad to say
     Farewell. But 'tis decr