Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-09-14
@rlsinaL Diapers.
For the Spirit of the A &c,
The Grave. Meditations.
by 7. G. VII.

BY T. G. VII.
How gloomy and cold is the grave! The
very thought brings shudder. Our todies,
so full Of life, so full of the vanities Of the
world, will soon have to bid an everlasting
farewell to all the fond visions and antici-
pated joys Of the earth, to moulder in the
gloomy, silent shades of the tomb. The
Grave THE churnel house of death =
How revolving And yetit is the common
resting place Of all. ...... .
The Prince, the mighty Conqueror, the
highborn genius, as we'll as the lowly, for
saken and the down-trodden slave of the
earth-all meet at the grave, and pay COM
mon homage to the ghastly king Of terrors
and skeleton monarch. All know that they
will have to lie down in the grave; but
how few there are that give it one serious
thought How few there are that tell by
their actions that they have the grave in
view
A man comes into the world he COM
mences a swift race for glory, knowing it
will end in the grave. He begins the jour
ney Of life as one blind on a race course,
when there is yawning guilt at the end.
He walks the earth with as firm, assured
footsteps as if it were his eternal home-as
if there were no gloomy grave-no darker
world beyond the shores of time.
Yonder 60 the youthful, with thoughts
only of life; with eyes sparkling with an
ticipated joys, and fixed upon that fatal
mirage that rides upon the floating wing Of
time. Hope hoyers over him with gilded
wings, urging him onward till he makes
his last grasp at the shadow of life, when
lrv geth0sea tLs- .vindine shoot and sinks in
to the grave.
Yonder 90 the aged and the infirm, with
heads bleached by the dews of three score
years, and bodies almost to spectres turned;
even now their hearts are swelling with
hopes Of earthly joys; but how soon will
the deceptive crust of earth beneath their
feet sink under them and drop them in
the grave! No doubt, in youthful days,
they thought to turn from vanities in time
TO redeem their souls from death. But
DELAY is the thief that steals mems souls
away, and gives the victory to the grave
The grave who is there that does not
grow chilly at the thought? Even the
christian may shudder when nearing th'
dark portals Of the tomb and when th'
gloomy shades of that last, long night begiI
to gather around him, may shrink at tn
long leap in the dark. If the Redeeme
of man would pray for the cup to pass iron
him, how may not the most devout chris
tian feel when about to enter the marrow
passage to the eternal world? If the chris
tian may shrink at his dissolution, wha
will the ungodly feel when he finds tn
sting, for him, still left in death, and tn
grave with the victoryl When he trun
a searching glance beyond the gulf of time
and the last glimmer Of hope dies away i
his breast, what then must be his agony
How many there are that thus lie down j
the grave How many there are thu
stand on the line between life and deatl
and scan the darker world beyond, anC
then, with one long howl of despair, cntC
the eternal gloom!
There stands the hero-the mighty col
oueror-beneath whose tread empir'
shrank away. with blood stained bann,
fluttering in the breeze upon the prou
battlements Of warriors fame, and wit
his name written upon the highest apex
earthly glory.
Look he is now surveying the plai
Of slaughter below, while the blood
friends and foes-all brothers-comminglC
in death, calls for vengeance; and orphan
cries and lamentations Of bercaved widow
rend the air; the tyrant now sickens
the sight-while conscience gnaws--ar
he descends from his proud height to Il
grave. Worms are now feasting on
frame, and time corroding his glory.
The proud Philosopher, whose scienti
mind ranges the distant fields of space, a.
steps from star to star, and numbers worlc
lies down in the grave with the comm
menial from whose dull mind was new
born a thought.
We too, though young, will soon
rolled on the wheels Of time, to the gra
The fleeting moments, as they chase ca
other in quick succession to join the ct
nal past, whisper as they fly, "thou
travelling to the grave" The passi
breeze, moaning through the boughs tt
oerspread the grave, impressively spe'
the same lesson as it softly dies on the c
Where are they from whom we recei'
earlv instruction? Where are the as
and the youthful An echo answers fir
the tomb, ask the white head stone t
speaks for the dead, read-"They are g
to the grave"
Swanannos, n. G.