The Kalida venture. [volume] (Kalida, Ohio) 1841-1865, 1852-06-04
THE TWO GRAVES.
sr WILLIAM c. BRYANT.


'Tis bleak wild hill.-hut green and bright
In the summer warmth, and the mid day light:
There's the hum oftbe hee and the chrp of the wreI
And the dash Of the brook from the alder glen:
There's the sound OF bell from the scattered loct
And the shade of the beech lies cool on the rock,
And fresh from the west Is the free winds breath
There is nothing here that speaks Of death.
Far yonder where orchards nnd gardens lie,
And dwellings cluster, tis thero men die
They are horn. they die, and hurled near.
Where the popuous grave yard lightens the bier;
For strict nnd close the ties that bind
In death. the children of human kind;
Yea, ,strctcr and closer than those OF life
'Tis neighhourhood that knows no strife.
They are noiselessly ,here--friend and foe--
To the still and dark assemblies helow:
Without frown or smile they meet. -
Each male and calm In his winding sheet;
In TINT sulIen home Of pence mud gloom,
Crowded, like guests in a banquetroom.
Yet there are graves In this lonely spot.
Two humble grnves,--hut meet them not,
I huve scen fhem.--e eighteen years tire past.
Since found their place IN the brnmbles laei,--
The place where, hfty winters ago.
An nged man In his locke OF snow.
And an aged natron. withered with years.
Were soemnly laid.--hnt not with tears,
For none. who snt by the light or their hearth,
Reheld their roffins covered with earth,
Their kind, ed were far. and their children Dead,
When the funeral prnycr was codiy said.
Two low green billocks. two small gray stones,
Rose over the place that held their homes.
lint the grassy hillUcks are levelled again,
And the keenest eve might search In vain,
'Mong briprs and ferns, and paths Of sheep,
For the spot where the aged couple sleep.
Yet well might they lay. beneath the soil
this lonely spot, than man of toll.
And trench the strong hard mould " ith the spade,
Where never before grave wns made;
For he hewed the dark old woods away,
And gave the virgin fields 70 the day.
And the eoard md the henn, beside his door,
Boomed where their flowers neer opened before;
And the naize stood up. and the heardedrye
Bent low In The breath of an unknown sky.
,Tis an ID that when life is ended here,
The spirit is horne 10 distant sphere; ...
That II visits its earthly home no more,
Nor looks on the haunts IL loved before.
But why should the hodiless soul he sent
Far off to long. long hanishment!
Talk not ofthe light and the living greenl ...
II will pine for the dear familiar scene;
II will yearn in that strange bright world, TO beho
The rock and the stream 1t knew Of old.
'Tis n cruel creed, hellpve II moi!
Death TO the good IL milder lot.
They are here, ,-they are here,--that harmless pair
I n the yellow sunshine and flowing mir,
IT, the light cIould shadows. that slowly pnss.
In the sounds that rise from the inurmuring grass.
They sit where their humble cottnge stood,
They ak by the waving edge Of the wood,
A md list to he long accustomed now
OF the brook that vets the rocks below.
Patient. and peacefuI and pnssioness,
q SEASONS on sensons swiftly p-ess.
They watch. md wait, and linger around.
Till the day when their bodies shall leave the ground