The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-05-13
WESTERLY. R. l., THURSDAY, NAY 10, 1852

. 1~ 'NAooho cOoSuo thCCt
above-but as we pass onward, and
again they recede. The path widens
and slopes suddenly down the hill side
to narrow bridge that crosses the river.
Let us stand on its center, and view the
surrounding scenery. Behind US still
frowns that rough granite pile, the noisy
river flows beneath us, but as it pushes
onward it seems to flow more quietly
along until it reaches yonder sunny
bank, where bends a weeping willow,
and dips its branches in the silent water
That is quiet lovely nook, and the
very waters themselves seem to flow
in silence by, as if they knew that the
spot was a sacred one, and so it is,
for there under that very willow has
many a baptismal ceremony been per-
formed. Before us, in full view, rising
from the summit of neighboring hill
towers the tall spire of the Gripeville
church. 1t is a white edifice, built les!
for ornament than use, and its plain ex
terror and unostentatious front harmonic
far better with the surrounding rura
scenery than would stately magnificent
building of stone or brick. No costly
railing hens it in, but the green hill
side marred only by the carriage patl
that leads up to the door, smoothly
declines to the road that winds around
its base. On either side of the church
extends the burial ground; and now as
the ruby beams of the setting sun fall
upon them, the forest of marble stones
glitter in his dazzling light, and the
church windows seem Illuminated as with
a ray from heaven. The scene is calm,
beautiful, impressive.
But let u, approach still nearor and
visit these silent graves. We will 60
round by the road and up the path to
the church door, and from thence on
through that little gate that you see
yonder. Now we are within this crowd
ed receptacle of the dead. Monuments
are all around us, some of them large
and costly, telling of the innumcrable
virtues of the once wealthy sleepers that
no one could discover until after their
exit from the stage of life. Others are
plain and unassuming like the ones
whose memory they perpetuate. Here
are several stones whose dilapidated
sides tell that many long,
long years have fed away since first the
tenants of the earth below them came
there to rest-they can tell no more,
for the destroying finger of time has
erased the inscriptions that were once
'Poh 'hOh'
Under this young willow sleep the
parents of Henry Noble, who died when
be was almost an infant, leaving him a
homeless orphan, but not friendlcss
one, for even tn n his mild disposition
gained him friends, and the kind farmer
Maydon was glad to take the orphan
nome with him and make him as his
own child
Yonder, against the wall, are several
ow grassy mounds unmarked, save by
common rough stone of granite, and
hose are the graves of the poor victims
If the village grocery which we saw in
he commencement of our walk. That
.umsellcr has other victims lying here,
besides those that are thus left without
single word recorded in their memory.
les, he might come here and count
hem by the dozens-young men in the
lawn of manhood, broken hearted sisters
md wives, and mothers, grey-haired
nen, and men of wealth and talent
hat have all fallen victims to his hellish
rafic. But he never comes here, no,
lot hc-although he may yet lie side
,y side with the vilest Of the vile
yretches whose souls and bodies he has
destroyed.
But see the sun is down, only the