The mountain Democrat., 1863-04-11
rHANATOPsIs.
SaY ~. e. BaSAEE.


To him who in the love Of nature holds
Cnmnnnion with her visible kHrms, she speaks
A various hnguagV: For his gsycr hours
she has ygics Of gladness, and smile
And oIoquenee OF beauty, aud she glides
late hia darker musings with 4 mild
Ard healipg sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware. when thoughts
or the hst bitter hour come like blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images --
OF the OteTp agony, and ShrOud, and pail.
And bTsathlesS dGfkness, and the narrow house,
Maks thee y shudder, and grow sick at heaTt'
0a toftA, under the open sky, and list
Fb s5fEsS2 .x.SS4..@SS,' 1kns fran all around
Earth and her waters, and the depths Of air
Cones stin voice Yet = few days, and thee
ThaGH-behOlding sGn shall see no more
In all his course nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form, was laid, with many tears,
Nor In the embrace OF ocean shall exist
Thy image. EnTth.that nourished thee shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrenderiug up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
10 mix forever with the elements
To be brother 70 the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish elod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share and treads upon, The oak
Shall send his roots abroad and pierce thy mold.
Yet TO thine eternal resting place
Shalt thou retire alone-nor shouldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs Of the infant world-Ns ith kings,
The pS- r1i Is % Sns eAstis-SRs wise, the good,
Fair f6fms, and hOaTy seers Of ages past,
AL In one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock ribbed and ancient the sun; the wales
Stretching In penslve quietness between;
The venerable woods rivers tha; move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the'mcadows green and, poured round
all,
Old Oceans gray and melancholy waste
Are but the solemn decorations all
OF the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host Of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abOdes OF dca'h,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
Tue globe are but handful to the tribes
That Slumber In its bosom. Take the wings
OF morning, and the Bactrian desert pierce,
Or lose thyself in the continuous wouds
where rolls the Oregon, AID hears no sound,
Save his own dashings. yet-the dead are there;
And millions in those soitudes, since first
The dight Of years began have laid them down
In Their last slGep-the dead reign there alone.
90 shalt thou rest and what ifthou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note Of thy departure: All that breathe
will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
PlOd on, and each one before i'll chase
His favOrite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employ yuents ,and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long tram
OF ages glide away, the sons Of men,
The youth in lfe's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength Of years, matron and maid,
The bowed with age. the infant III the smiles
And beauty OF its innocent age cut Off
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
by those WhO, in their turn, shall follow them.
50 live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumeTable caravan that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent nails Of death,
Thou 60 not like the quarry slave At night,
6cOuTged to his dungeon but sustained and soOthed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapcry of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.