New-York daily tribune., 1843-03-02
Fee The Xniekerbockes q. M,rch.
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IT,, green spo: fenced by rastfng trees .,;.o,
And pine shrubs whose shade .hs Wild eta en'EP
&srrily IN the noou,ide Here the wild
Luxa,ian. ivy lfts i,s javelin.leaf,
and briers grow Up amid III embrnidereo or
And the tall elder nengs lis berries oa' h
Tc blseken IN ths sunshine. Flowers are
ASaoag the sunny ridges. clever oio'la,
And here m. black berry shows It's purple irr!,
When the light haze OF August tainuy Vei!s
TIE distant rrssntslas
When .by heart is vexed
w;,h ,bs confusion of the thoughtless world.
Lyhe, ,hou ar, ,ickened OF humanity.
@. b.,dened with the many ills of life,
p.-e Ie, thy footsteps tcnd for thou shalt ma
Amid the 9uist Of this haowed spot
An sIoquence, and sweet morality.
Which shal! heget within thee freshcr thonshs
And Srnsr for,itude Come hitber wnsh
The misty noon,de burn. in the blue h:is,
And The flowers faint amid he grassy toiiios'
a I'd by the road. aide Through this winding lane.
Whose dark and yielding soil is marked, midway,
With ru,s sad hcof prints. dandelions grow
Ard pola eyed daisies of the spring ude crowd
Upon .he beaten foet pain. Here the gray
A.d stately fnnlen shows IFS fsnnel-leaf,
And s:s i, saffron blossoms. Butterflies.
yello.y a. gold. are here amid the oozs.
Disporting in the sunshine and beyond
Wide fields Of corn seen and cottases
And meadows over which the soft ~ind runs
With faint, f,ful murnur I IS spot
shu, on, from the great ,Horoughiares Of lnen,
The highway to the Country OF the Dead
Where. one by one, the lovely are brought in,
And laid IN ,hei. last slumber
AsItread
This barky path, ,phi,e TO the very edge
With nodding clover. behold the graves
OF those who we're borne hither long ago
To r.ouder in the charnel. Reverend men,
Whose lives were full OF faith and they gho,n Death
,r,i,1l lie w as ful
OF promise for the future darke eyed youth,
Acd rnanhscd in the glory Of his prime,
ALL all lie here in silence! 1 behold steps,
The long dark gate through which, with struggling
The uncovered bearers of the dead bore in
The polished coffin is it here they lie,
And are aope left save to muse upca
Their many vir.ues' Where are they who wept
Beside these heaped.up gravez! Who saw the rough
Pine box receive the rich Inahosauy
And heard the last words spoken! They are gcns
To rningle m the vanities of life,
To follow mad Ambition and to seek
The customs aud the pleasures of the world,
As if no warning from the spirit land
Ha3 eer given nole Of tier mortality
And who shall say who next of ali that move
In yonGer ,lloroug ghfares shall join that train
Which hath gone down to slumber? Who may tell
The limit. of his life's brief history,
Or say, i snll ain Joung. and therefore Death
VIII 6nd me net untll green old age
Hath touched nay head with silver2' Come and reao
The homil:es which Love hath chiseled here
Upon the cleaning marble! Let the dead
Make answer TO thy boast, for ye, q few
shor, years, and thou shalt lie as low as they
Beneath The gre.s and sunshine! Flowers shall b!cou
above thy head The sweetes, flowers Of Spring
And Winter here shall chide The hooded Night
W!ta ths rough roar of ternpss:s. Thou, meanwhile,
Saalt feed the loas white coftin-worn, thet cra~s
Lszily s'sr thy s,one.cold skeleton.
BY a.! but him uncared.for and forgousn.