Glasgow weekly times. (Glasgow, Mo.) 1848-1861, 1851-06-12
The Grave Of those we Love
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.

attachment. lhe latter must be con-
tinually refreshed and kept alive by
the presence of it's object, but the love
that is seated in the soul can live on
long remembrance. The mere inclina-
tions of sense, languishing and declin'
ing with the charm which excites them,
turn with shuddering and disgust from
the distant precincts of the tomb; but
it is thence that truly spiritual affection
rises purified from every sensual desire,
and returns, like holy flame, TO illu.
mine and sanc,fy the heart Of the
survivor.
The sorrow for the dead is the only
sorrow from which we refuse to be
divorced. Every other wound we
seek to heal-every other affliction we
forget; but this wound we consider it a
duty ts keep open--ihe affections we
cherish and brood over in solitude
Where is the mother who would will,
ingly forget the infant that perished
like o blossom from her arms, though
every recollection is q pangl Where
is the daughter who would willingly for
get the most tender of parents, though
to remember be but to lamen,l Who,
even in the hour Of agony, would for.
get the friend over which he mourns2
Who, when the tomb is closing upon
the remains Of her he most loved,
when he feels his heart, as it were,
crushed in the closing of its portal
would accept Of consolation that must
be brought by forgelfulness.
No, the love which survives the
tomb is one Of the noblest attributes of
the soul. If it has woes, il like wise has
its delights, and when the overwhelm
ing burst Of grief is calmed into the
gentle tear Of recollection when the
sudden anguish and the convulsive ago.
ny is over, the present ruins Of all we
most loved, is softened away into pen.
sive medilations on all that il was in
the days Of its loyelness-who would
root out such sorrow from the hearll
Though it may sometimes throw pass
ing cloud over the bright hour of gai'
e,y, or spread g. deeper sadness over an
hour of gloom, yet who would exchange
it even for the song of pleasure or the
burst ofrevelry? No; there is voice
from the tomb sweeler than song
There is a remembrance of the dead to
which we turn even from the charms of
the living. Oh, the grave! the grave!
1t buries 5every error--covers every
defect-extinguishes every resentment.
From the peaceful bosom springs none
but fond regret and tender recollection.
Who can look down upon the grave of
an enemy, and not feel compunctive
throb, that he had ever warred with
the poor handful of earth that lies
mouldering before him.
But the grave Of those we loved--
what place of meditation! There it
is that we call up in long review the
whole history of virtue and gentleness,
and the thousand endowments lavish.
ed upon US almost unheeded in the dai.
ly intercourse of intimacy; there it is
that the tenderness of the parting
scene, the bed of DEATH with all its sti.
fled griefs, its noiseless attendance, its
mute, watchful assiduiles, the last tes'
limonials Of expiring lovel the feeble
huttering, thrllling-oh, how thrilling
pressure of the handl the last fond
look of the gazing eye, turning upon u:
even from the threshold of existence
the faint faltering accents, struggling ir
death to give one more assurance of af
fection.
Ay, 60 TO The grave of buried love
and medilatel There settle the &C
count with thy conscience for every
past benefit unrequilted, every past en-
dearment unregarded, Of that depar;ec
being who can never--never return tc
be soolhed by thy contrilion.
II If thou art a child, and hast ever ad
9 ded a sorrow 10 the soul, or furrov
, 10 the silver brow of the sffectionat,
parent; if thou art husband. and has
ever caused the fond bosom that ha
j, yentured its whole happiness in III.
! arms, TO doubt one moment of thy kind
!, ness or thy truth; if thou art friend
!, and hast ever wronged in thought o
word, or deed, the spirit that generous
! ly confded in thee--if thou art lover
and hast eyer given one unmerte'
pang to that true heart which now lie
y. cold and still beneath thy feet. then b
4 sure that every unkind look, every ur
. grrcious word, every ungentle actor
. will come lhronging back upon N
- memory, and knocking dolefully at tn
:, soul; then be sure that thou wilt Ii
- down sorrowing and repeniing on tn
grave, and after the unbeard groal
IF and pour the unavailing tear-mor
e deep, more bitter, because unheard an
- unayailing
'e Then weave the chaplet of flower
l. and strew the beauties Of nature aboi
thy grave, console The broken spirit,
d.. nanai .riih ihaaa Inndcr s,ai Co