New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1848-02-08
NEW-YORK TRIBUNE.
From the Union Magazine
GREENWOOD CEMETERY.
BY WILLIAM WALLACE.

,~..,. the hou.es OF the dead-Bere Youth
Ana Ase and Manhood stricken 10 hs s"e
Hold solemn state and awful silence 80, r,,b
while ertn goes murnuring IN DC. A"'''"'
And troubled ocean losses 70 an.
fIaon hls mountainous bed impauenuy'
Ana many stsrs make worship mese~
r - '1s ~ rsrs IN meditation wrapped,
Torers upon the large white pyramid
OF stu eternity. ..,,x
Among these walks lined by the frequent tombs,
For IL 10 very wonderful Asr
Tse popuous city IFS Its tall, bright spires,
And snowy sails are glancing on the bay,
ASH in merriment-but here al sleep.
They sleep, these calm, pale people Of the Past;
Spring plants her rosy feet on their dim homes
Thsy sscp sweet sammer comes and calls and CALLS
With ill her passionate poetry Of flowers
Wed 10 the music OF the soft sou,h-wind-
They sleep The lonely Autumn sits and sobs
Between The cold white tonbs. a. II her heart
Would bresk-they seepi-wlli Winter comess and chants
Msj.stlcsl the mournful ssgss learned
Far In the melancholy North. where God
wsiks forth alone upon the desolate SEAS
They slumser still sleep on, Oh pa'sioness dead
Ys make world sublime J ye have power
Ara majesty the livsg never own.
Here Avarice shah forgot his den Of gold;
Here lust his beautiful victim, aDc hot Hate
His crouching foe. Ambition here shall lean
Against Deaths shaft. yelling the stern, bright eye
That over. bold. would take the hight Of gods,
And know Fame's noihisgness sire shall coIae,
The ms,ron and the child, through many years,
To this fair spot, whether the plumed hearse
Moves slowly through the winding walks, or Death
For q brief moment psuses all shall come
To feel the touching eloquence OF graves:
And therefore II well for us 10 cothe
The place with beauty. No dark terror here
Saal chin the generous tropic Of the soul,
Rns Poetry and Der starred comrade, Art.
Shall make the sacred country OF the dead
Magnificent The fragrant flowers shall smile
Over the low. green graves; the trees shall shake
Their soul-like cadebces upon the tombsi
The little lake, set IN paradise
or wood, shall be mirror 10 the moon
Whist time she looks from her old szure tent
And stately Sculpture from her white hands, throw
A solemn glory that shall wrap the heart
IL tearfnl ravishment-Oh, II IL well
WHY should darkness scowl on any spot
From whence man grssps eterni,yf Light, Hight,
Ard Art. and Poetry. and Eloquence,
And sl that we call glorious, are its dover.
on ye who're oulJerng frames brough, and placed
Bis pious hands within these howery slopes
And gentle bills, where ye dwelling novi
For IL more than element. The soul
Lives IA the body as the sunbeam lives
In trees or flowers, that but clay without.
Then where are We. lost nbeams OF the u1indR
Are ye where great Orion towers and holds
Eternity on his stupesdous fron,f
Or where pale Neptune IN the distant space
shows us how far, In His creative mood,
With ponp OF silence and coHcentered bro~s
Hath stepped the Almighty HAPPY ye have gone
Where other matter roundeih into shapes
OF bright bestitpde: or do ye know
Ausht Of dull Space Time. and its dark load
OF aching wssrinesJi
They answer not.
But He whose love created them, OF old,
To cheer His solitary realm and reign,
With love will still remomber them.