New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1853-01-12
DAILY CRESCENT
? ION Ne s07ITIe "a
MUSINGS IN THE CEMETERY


And this is. then, the region of the dead
o death thou art the palace Of our hopes
The storehouse Of our joys great labors end
Thou art the bronzed key which swift unocks
The Golfers of the past and thou shalt give
Such trophies of our hearfz. sunny years
When life upon its golden harp-strines plays
Here are the sunny forms Of life and i0yanee
Here tl1wers bloom, the cypress and the rose
With their soft buds and blossoms ON the air
The sumrnsr-birds. in measured rOundelet
Mako gentle music. and the warm .ruth-wind
Ris5e- each flower and leaf Yet here they sleep.
Sage and sire, the child aud manhood strong
silently beneath the scnlptured tomb.
And -oould some bold and formidable
strong az the wiered Aratian's who called forth
IN enmarbled city to re-breathDg life.
Now disenehant these cold insensate forms
Wrsu?h from their grave the vassas Of his realm
And their Pr6methean spark Ielume. would they,
Rejoicing their way 90 ID retread
The labyrinthian vistas Of the world
React their part Of hopes and fears. and all
III ingenious tricks that busy mortal play.
Nor cast one glance back to this h1wer-deeked home
The kind ndulgent mother. cradling them
To deep repose.
Surely some lovelinpss
Should mark the place where earth's fond children
come
To sleep within her all-embracing arms,
Where age arrives at last, Nith falteriug steps.
Ills pilgrimage to close--and manhood rests
shaking the hectic fever Of the hsart
In cool Lethean waves where youth Is lured
From the rude conflicts Of the noisy world
Aud the young mother comes to hnd pillow
For her infants head. Oh how deep the sleep
That wraps them all But is this such deep rest
We know these hearts are hushed-these mortal form.
Resolved again to dust but in what scene
In what strange scene, remote, beyond the reach
Of narrow rounded mortal sen-dwells now
Tn undyug spirit? Often revisits il
The scenes familiar 10 its days Of nature,
or does II pass from orb to orb afar.
Winging the empyrea way harmopiously.
With flights Of radiant angels, hand in hand
Tell Inc, ye dead ye who but yesterday
Walked the green earth with me-with whom per
chance
shall sleep tomorrow-speak answer me:
Unfold the mysteries Of your charnel- house,
And tell me thy doom in that strange home
Noceless Silent A thousand lips are here
Yet not one answering voice to my deep call
BE still my soul. What still small voice il this
Enrapturng the sense with strains sweet
As music Of the spheres
Cease, mortal heart.
This restless, longing search to pierce the clouds
o'ershadowing the silent vale Of gloom
Content. 'tis opened to His eye who formed
The visible roundure Of this world most fair
The narrow compass Of thy years adorn
With lne-bteoming graces and when night
About thy heart shall close, lie down to rest,
Grateful on the green bosom of the earth
That coming hour in perfect trust to wait
When lions King upon the earth shall stand.
And then, with all these cold and viewess forms
robe of interruption shall put on,
Ills presence to attend. Henceforth. so walk
Tha. thou mays hail the spirits call with Joy.
And read thy title to that blessed Home
Where the weary and the heavy laden rest
SswOrlran,, Nov. !, ls5l LAWRENCE.